#-found on trips to new places with people i love/d

[princessmyriad]

Still a work in progress but my little art wall side of the new room is coming together and im in love with it 😍 i be feelin myself so much more with the new space 🥰

[punkshort]

In Another Life | Part I

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: Your brother and his friend surprise you after work with a handsome stranger crashing on your couch who claims to be from Ancient Rome.

Chapter Warnings: language, food consumption, major romcom vibes, mentions of prostitution, mentions of OC death, mentions of OC pregnancy, flirting, sexual tension

WC: 6.5K

A/N: this is a soft/romcom Marcus Acacius mini-series. Heavily inspired by Kate & Leopold. Also, let's just assume Ancient Romans spoke and could read English.

Series Masterlist

Time was of the essence. He had to move quick.

People would say he was a coward, no doubt his legacy would be tarnished, but if he escaped with his life, so be it.

He didn't bother with spare clothes, just an extra set of sandals and food thrown into a satchel before he crept down the dimly lit hallway, careful not to wake one of his many servants.

He loved his palace. It was a place of peace and comfort for him, but come morning, it would be ripped away and he would be thrown into the pit. A general, Rome's deadly sword and the Emperor's right hand man, would become a lowly gladiator. Trained to perform and kill for amusement.

And all because he refused to play the Emperor's sick game.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't help train another legion of young men half his age to fight and die for their vanity. For their greed. When the Emperor announced his new task, all he could think of was his unborn son. He would be of age now, had he lived. He could have been training him to die.

He padded down the stone steps softly, hardly making a sound, his combat training serving him well. He managed to get just outside the city limits while it was still dark, but he could see the glow from the sun breaking the horizon. He didn't have much time to find a place to hide. He was still too close, and no doubt warriors would be looking for him once Geta realized he had fled.

Gods above, if they found him... his fate would be far worse than one of a gladiator.

He stumbled across a small clearing, head twisted around to make sure he was not being followed when he tripped over something large and heavy.

"Oh, shit!" he heard a young male voice exclaim.

Quickly, he unsheathed his sword and aimed it toward the voice. Confusion painted his face when he saw the unusual clothing and utterly strange contraption behind him. Before he had a chance to say anything, leaves rustled and he swung is sword towards the noise. Another young man, similarly dressed to the other, emerged from the thicket.

"State your names. Quick."

"Uh..." the first man trailed off, hands raising slowly in the air. "D-Danny. Daniel. And this is... Victor."

"Dude! C'mon! You know I -"

"Silence!" the general roared as loud as he dared. "What is your business here?"

"Science! Just... experiments. And the like," Danny said hurriedly, glancing at Victor for help. He nodded.

"Yes. Experiments."

"And are you citizens of Rome?"

They paused and looked at one another again.

"We are citizens of... York," Danny said.

"It's new," Victor added.

The general looked back and forth between the two men before ultimately deciding he did not have the time to quarrel with them and they did not appear to be a threat. He dropped his sword to the side and glanced around.

"You did not see me," he said sternly, turning to leave.

"Wait!"

He glanced back over his shoulder, pausing.

"Are you running away?"

"Fleeing," Victor added quietly.

"Fleeing?" Daniel repeated.

"I do not see it fit for you to ask such questions of someone above your station," he snarled. The two men exchanged worried looks before continuing.

"We're leaving. If you're looking to jet, you can... y'know," Danny said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder towards the strange looking contraption.

"Can you get me to Greece?"

They grinned and nodded.

"Sure, dude."

The general glanced around once again, his brow furrowing when he saw the light stretching high into the sky, brightening the landscape and soon, giving his position away.

"Then I accept."

He sheathed his sword and stomped over to the men, startling them both with his intensity.

Victor turned to unlock a door, struggling a bit before it popped open and crawling inside. Danny stuck out a hand and gave him a nervous smile.

"What's your name?"

His eyes dropped down to the frail looking hand before him, then slowly, as if he couldn't decide, lifted his arm to grasp the inside of Daniel's forearm, giving him a vigorous shake.

"General Marcus Acacius."

"What the fuck?" you grumbled under your breath, rereading your brother's text.

Danny: I have a friend crashing on the couch, won't stay long

Shuffling your bag onto your other shoulder as you walked down the bustling city street, you tapped out a response.

You: It better not be Lizard.

Danny: It's not, but he's here 2

Danny: Just visiting

Fucking Lizard. You've known him since he was maybe ten years old and you were fairly certain he never matured past that age.

Given you had two extra people waiting for you in your already cramped apartment, you decided to grab a couple pizzas on the way home instead of the sushi you had been thinking about all day. Choosing to be a little selfish, you made one of them a white pizza, it being your favorite, and made your way home with the last bits of energy you had left.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you walked into that day.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you stepped into your apartment, door wide open behind you, two pizza boxes balancing in one hand as you stared blankly at the massive man standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room. He was dressed in some strange type of robe that fell just above his knee and his head was bent, looking at something on your coffee table.

When you cleared your throat, he swung around and defensively placed a hand at his waist. That was when you noticed the massive and very real looking sword at his side and your blood ran cold.

"D-Danny!" you yelled, your eyes glued to the stranger's hand. As if he finally sensed your fear, he dropped his arm and straightened up.

"Apologies-"

"Danny!" you yelled again, louder this time.

"Yeah? Hey! Sorry," Danny said, hurrying into the room with Lizard following on his heels.

"Oh, pizza? Sweet," Lizard said, reaching for the boxes and brushing past you as if an armed man wasn't standing in the middle of your home.

"Who the hell is this?!" you exclaimed, pointing towards the stranger while glaring at your brother.

"I told you already, he's a friend who's crashing on the couch for a few days," he replied, following Lizard into the kitchen, pizza the only concern at that point.

"My lady," the man began again, "please allow me to explain."

"My lady?" you repeated with a scowl. "I thought you guys stopped playing Dungeons and Dragons after high school."

"That's not -" Danny shook his head with a mouthful of pizza, "this is General Acacius."

"General?" you said quizzically, raising an eyebrow first at Danny, then towards the large man in your living room. "Be serious, Danny."

"He is!"

"I promise, what he says is true," the general chimed in, taking a step closer and stretching out his hand. You sighed and dropped your things onto your table.

"I'm too tired for this, it's been a long week."

The general frowned, hand still outstretched. "Daniel, please explain to your mistress she is not to challenge men above her lover's ranking."

You balked and gagged. "Lover?!"

"Mistress?" Danny said at the same time with a similar look of disgust. "Gross, dude, she's my sister."

Something in the general's face shifted when he learned you were siblings and he looked at you with renewed interest. "Ah, so you do not belong to another?"

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a plate, tossing a piece of white pizza on it before Danny and Lizard ate it all. "I don't have a husband, no. And that's a super sexist thing to say, I don't care if you're role playing or not."

Turning around to exit the kitchen, you were surprised to find the general somehow snuck up on you. Standing just a few feet away, you nearly ran into his strong, broad chest. He lifted a hand to tilt your chin up and whatever biting remark you had locked and loaded died on your tongue. You finally allowed yourself to get a good look at him. Dark, brooding eyes. Thick, brown curls dusted in grey, the color matching his beard. Sharp, angular nose and pouty lips.

Okay, so he was good looking. That didn't negate the weird dress and obvious mental illness.

"Your name?" he murmured softly, finger still hooked under your chin.

You cleared your throat and responded with your name, to which he nodded before dropping his hand. His gaze drifted to your plate and his nose wrinkled. "What is this you are eating?"

"Pizza?" you replied, squeezing up against your counter so you could get past him and get some space. "Help yourself."

"What is pizza?" you heard him ask Danny. You collapsed onto the couch with a groan and took a bite, fully not in the mood for whatever weird shit your brother had going on.

"It's Italian, you'll like it," Danny replied.

The three men trailed in from the kitchen to join you in the living room, your moment of peace and quiet over.

"This appears to be some bastardized version of flatbread," the general said, lifting the piece of pizza and giving it a tentative sniff. "What is this red? Some kind of pepper paste?"

"It's tomato sauce."

"Alright, enough with this bullshit please," you said, but the men ignored you.

You watched as he took a bite and almost instantly spit it out. "This is vile."

"Hey, that's authentic New York City pizza. Nothing vile about it," Lizard said. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"General - I'm sorry, I'm not calling you that. What's your real name?"

"That is my real name," he answered, cocking his head at you from the other end of the couch.

"General Marcus Acacius," Danny told you, cursing under his breath when he dropped some cheese on his shirt.

"Okay, Marcus," you began, but he shook his head.

"It is quite inappropriate for you to -"

"I don't give a shit, I'm not calling you General like I'm in the fucking army!"

The room fell quiet as you glared at Marcus, daring him to say another word. When it became evident he wasn't going to, you took a deep breath and continued.

"If you don't like the sauce, there's another pizza in the kitchen without it. Go try that," you said, voice a little softer now. He nodded and rose to go find the white pizza, leaving just the three of you for the first time.

"What the fuck, Danny?!" you whispered angrily. "Why the hell is there a guy in a dress pretending he's a fucking general in my home?"

"He is a general," Danny whispered back. "From Ancient Rome. I'll explain everything later," he said, straightening up when Marcus's footsteps approached.

"This is far better. Thank you, my lady."

"Oh, look at that. You already have something in common," Lizard said with a fake, syrupy voice. "You both love gross pizza."

"Thought you just said authentic New York City pizza can't be gross?" you sneered.

"Boom! She got you, Lizard," Danny laughed. Marcus looked around the room, confused.

"You said your name was Victor, did you not?"

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth with a napkin.

"Lizard's just his nickname. His real name is Victor," Danny explained.

"Yeah. No one calls me Victor. Just like no one calls you Marcus," Lizard explained.

"Only those dearest to me are allowed to use that name," he explained. "Such as a parent or a lover." His eyes flickered up to you quickly before focusing on his pizza once again.

"Does that make you his lover now?" Lizard teased. You kicked a foot out and jabbed him in the hip.

"Shut up," you grumbled.

"Do you not follow the proper steps to obtain a lover in your land?" he asked, genuine curiosity painting his face. "It is much more than simply calling another by a name. If a man were to deem a woman acceptable, he would make an arrangement with her father to wed." He scratched his chin in thought for a moment before adding, "unless, of course, she is a whore."

Lizard and Danny doubled over, howling with laughter while you stared daggers at them both.

"Did I say something to warrant such laughter?" Marcus asked you. You rolled your eyes.

"No, you did not."

"Rule number one, General," Danny said, gasping for air and wiping the tears from his eyes. "Don't call girls whores."

Marcus looked taken aback.

"I meant no offense. A whore is a common profession where I am from. There is no shame in it."

"Alright, can we stop talking about whores?" you asked, exasperated.

"Yeah, good idea. Let's find you some clothes to wear and we'll set up the couch so you can sleep. It folds out, don't worry," Danny told Marcus.

"My tunic should suffice," Marcus said, glancing down at his clothes.

"Uh, not in New York, man. Might stick out a little," Lizard joked, then stood to take his plate back in the kitchen for seconds.

"Depends on what side of town you're on," you mumbled under your breath.

"You can borrow something of mine," Danny said, standing up to go to his room. "You're a little bigger than me but I think I have something that'll work."

You eyed Marcus up over your plate, taking in the finer details of his appearance. "Where are you from? Really?" you asked. He turned to you with a sigh.

"Rome."

"Come on. You can drop the act, they're gone," you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

"I promise, I am telling you the truth," he replied, his gaze boring into you so intensely that it left you spellbound for a moment. "Your brother and his comrade found me on the outskirts of the city with some... contraption. They said they would take me to Greece, however it is clear this is not Greece."

"A contraption?" you repeated nervously. Oh, fuck.

He nodded. "I had never seen anything like it. I do not know what happened but once I entered, there were bright lights and a loud crack and... I must have lost consciousness. I woke in your lounge, utterly confused."

"Shit," you whispered, putting your plate down so you could angrily scrub your face with your hands. Danny, although very irritating and far too dependent on you for basic survival, was incredibly gifted. His intelligence stunned his teachers since he was three years old. He was doing long division at five and became fluent in Spanish at seven. By the time he entered high school, he had grown extremely interested in science, where he met Lizard. For years you had witnessed failed experiments and fireballs in your backyard, but you saw all their successes, as well. Since they were fourteen, Danny and Lizard talked about time travel and you always brushed them off, even when they began to build different devices throughout the years that claimed they were on the verge of a breakthrough, but of course, nothing ever came of it.

Until now.

No, that was crazy. There's no way they actually travelled back in time to Ancient Rome and returned with a Roman general... right?

"Why were you going to Greece?" you asked, tiredly dropping your hands in your lap.

He paused for a moment and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply right when Danny emerged from his bedroom with an armful of different clothing options.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow and find something else that will fit," he said, sheepishly handing over the clothes. Marcus slowly reached out and set them down on the cushion next to him.

"Thank you."

"Hey, I'm gonna take off," Lizard said from the kitchen doorway.

"Yeah, alright. Hey!" Danny said, swiveling around before he left. "You'll be back tomorrow, right? I need your help with the... thing."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction but remained silent. Once Marcus was asleep, you planned on having a very heated conversation with your brother, so you saved that little tidbit for later.

"Yeah, sure thing, man."

You stood to clean up the leftovers while you listened to Danny explain the concept of a pull-out couch to Marcus, then after that, a bathroom. The more time that passed, the more nervous you became. What if this was real? Was it even possible?

Quietly, you stepped out from the kitchen. Marcus was sitting on the edge of the pull out mattress, hands clasped together between his knees as he stared blankly at the floor. For the first time, you felt bad for him. If everything he said was true, he had to have been so confused and scared.

"Hey," you said softly. He lifted his head with a jolt of surprise. "Here's some water," you said, offering him a plastic bottle. He took it and frowned. "You twist the top to open it," you explained, ignoring how ridiculous it felt to tell a grown man how to open a bottle of water.

"Thank you," he replied, setting it down on the floor next to his bed.

"Do you need anything else?"

He shook his head and gave you a small smile. "No, my lady. Thank you for your hospitality."

"You're welcome," you said shyly, inching towards the little hallway that led to your bedroom. "We'll get you back home, Marcus. Don't worry."

He swallowed and smiled again. "Of course."

You smiled back and awkwardly clapped your hands together. "Well, if you need anything at all, just knock on one of our doors."

He nodded and with a sigh, began to peel back the sheets.

"Good night, my lady," he said once your back was turned. You swiveled back around and gave him a little wave, his deep brown eyes looking breathtaking in the evening light.

"Good night."

Flustered, you knocked into the doorframe on your way back to your room. Cursing under your breath and rubbing your shoulder, you slipped behind your door, finally putting an end to your humiliation.

The next morning you sipped your coffee in your kitchen as you replayed the argument you had with Danny the night before once you were sure Marcus was asleep.

"You need to get him back home. Tomorrow, Danny," you had said sternly.

"There might be a slight hiccup with that," he replied, bracing himself for your anger. "The machine needs repairs."

"What the fuck do you mean?!" you seethed as your paced around his cluttered room.

"Don't worry, sis! We can fix it! But we just need a couple days."

"How many days?" you asked with a glare.

Danny shrugged. "Two. Three."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"A week, tops."

"A week?!"

"Shh! You'll wake him up!" he scolded, pointing angrily towards the door. "Lizard's coming over tomorrow, we'll get working on it right away. Something happened on impact when we returned, I didn't factor in modern day atmospheric pressure originally, but -"

"I don't give a shit what the reason is, you just need to fix it! You have no clue what the ramifications are by keeping him here! You could alter the course of history or something!"

"You watch too many movies," Danny chuckled, but quickly stopped and cleared his throat when he saw the look on your face. "I'll fix it. Promise."

The caffeine hadn't even had a chance to enter your bloodstream before Danny woke and dropped yet another problem onto your lap.

"Do you think you can take him shopping for some clothes today while me and Lizard work on this thing?" he asked as he poured cereal into a bowl.

"So now I'm running errands for you?" you snapped.

"C'mon, don't be like that," he replied as he put the carton of milk back in the fridge. The dynamic between you and your brother was wearing thin. It was always up to you to be the levelheaded one while he just allowed the wind to take him wherever it pleased, completely carefree while you harbored all the stress of basic responsibilities.

"Try to just enjoy the adventure for once," he added before messily scooping cereal into his mouth.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled under your breath before bringing your mug to your lips and taking another sip.

"So, is that a yes?"

"Fine," you said with a roll of your eyes. "If only so I can get away from this apartment and the inevitable chaos those repairs will bring. Just don't piss off my neighbors, okay?"

"Deal."

"Good day," you heard Marcus's deep voice rumble behind you. You jumped and swiveled around, gaze flickering down briefly to take in his borrowed clothes. Danny was right, he needed something that fit.

"Morning, General," Danny said with a grin. "Sleep well?"

"Surprisingly, yes. Even with all the noise outdoors... tell me, is it ever silent here?"

"No," you both said in unison. He nodded and looked down at his tunic, which was crumpled up in his fist.

"Do you have a servant I can give this to for washing?"

"That would be me," you said, stretching out your arm. Marcus hesitated for a moment.

"The lady of the house shouldn't have to perform such arduous tasks."

"I agree, yet here we are," you said, taking the tunic and tossing it over your shoulder. "I have to put in a load, anyway."

You changed your clothes and freshened up while listening to your brother scrape together some type of meal for Marcus that he found acceptable, then pressed the button on your tiny washing machine before heading back into the kitchen.

"Ready?"

Marcus glanced between you and Danny while chewing the last piece of a baguette.

"My sister's gonna take you shopping for some clothes," Danny explained. Marcus looked down at his attire and nodded.

"To the market, then?" he asked you, trailing after you as you tossed your bag over your shoulder and walked down the hallway towards the elevators.

"Something like that."

"I have plenty of denar," he said as you jabbed the call button.

"Denar?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather satchel filled with unfamiliar coins. You grinned and shook your head.

"Don't worry, I got it."

"Please, your hospitality has already been gracious enough," he said, following you into the elevator when it opened.

"If you can find someone who will take that, then be my guest," you said, tapping the lobby button. He was about to say something else when the doors closed and the car violently jolted, startling him.

"What is this?"

"It's an elevator. It lifts us up and down so we don't have to take the stairs."

His jaw hung open in disbelief until the doors slid open to reveal the lobby, then he broke out into a huge smile.

"Incredible."

But once he followed you out onto the busy New York City street, peppered with pedestrians, bicyclists, couriers, and a sea of vehicles, then his eyes practically bugged out of his head.

"I see now where all the noise comes from," he said to you, raising his voice a bit over the commotion as you walked. It was actually endearing to see him experience the city for the first time, something you took for granted every day leaves most people in awe. It was easy to forget that.

"Stick close," you said with a small smile when you saw him tip his head back to gaze up at the towering skyscrapers.

"What is your profession, then?" he asked as he walked by your side. You noticed with envy that others on the sidewalk veered out of his way, his massive shoulders and hulking frame no doubt the reason, instead of brushing past him, like what most do to you every day.

"I write for a fashion magazine."

"Oh, so you're a poet?" he asked, intrigued. You shook your head with a small laugh.

"No. I write about romance in the lifestyle section. I have a column every month on a different topic and I also pick three reader questions to answer and publish on the website every week."

It was clear he hardly understood what you were talking about, so you stopped at the nearest newsstand and grabbed your magazine. After paying, you ushered him over to a bench and sat down while you thumbed through it.

"Ah! Here we go," you said, proudly handing over the magazine and tapping on the corner of the page.

"'Are Soulmates Real'?" he read aloud the title before frowning at you. You nodded.

"Yeah, I talk about the idea of soulmates and how it's putting too much pressure on the modern woman to find this perfect partner when in reality, they don't exist."

"And how do you know this?" he asked, clearly amused.

"I don't, but I wrote from experience," you shrugged.

"So, since you have not found a soulmate, that means they do not exist?"

"No, it's an opinion, Marcus," you explained, "the magazine pays me for my opinion and outlook on things."

He sighed and closed the magazine with a shake of his head. "I am sorry you feel that way."

"Are you saying you believe in soulmates?" you asked.

"Well, I cannot say one way or another from experience, but I like to believe they exist, yes."

"Do you have a wife or family waiting for you back home?" The thought hadn't even occurred to you before now and you felt guilty, but he shook his head.

"My wife died many years ago during childbirth," he said sadly, and your heart plummeted. "She was young and I had just made rank, so her father arranged our marriage in order to ensure a safe and comfortable life for his only daughter." He looked down at the magazine in his hands but he wasn't really reading it. He was too lost in thought.

"She was with child very quickly after we wed. I had not even known her a year by the time she passed, but the time I had with her was enjoyable. I thought very much one day we would learn to love one another," he said, giving you a sad smile. "Was not meant to be."

"I'm so sorry," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's horrible... I don't even know what to say."

"It was a long time ago now. I never did remarry, although I had many offers. I became entirely focused on war, fighting to keep Rome and her citizens safe. It is what I was meant to do," he said, exhaling loudly and looking around. "Is this what you feel you are meant to do?" he asked, holding up the magazine. You laughed, grateful for the change of subject.

"No, probably not."

He grinned and nodded in agreement. "Yes, I imagine you are destined for much more, my lady."

"You think so?" you asked, scrunching your nose self-consciously.

He nodded, his gaze drifting over your face solemnly.

"I do."

If elevators impressed Marcus, then the escalators within Bloomingdale's practically floored him. He was so enraptured with them that you had to nudge his shoulder to remind him to step forward before he tripped when you got to the top.

"This is unlike anything I have ever laid my eyes on," he said to you in wonder, his head rolling around on his shoulders as he gazed around at all the lights and signage.

"Yeah, Bloomingdale's is special," you said dreamily. "Sometimes I get to tag along with girls from work to pick out fashion samples for the magazine. It's always so much fun."

You led him over to the men's section and turned to study his broad frame. "You're probably an extra large," you said as you began to sift through the racks, picking out various shirts in different styles and colors and draping them over your arm. He watched you without saying a word, just occasionally feeling the material between his fingertips whenever he saw something that caught his eye. When you got to the pants, you paused and pursed your lips. Glancing around, you spotted a measuring tape left on one of the registers. Grabbing his hand in yours, you dragged him over and shoved the shirts in his arms.

"Here. Hold these while I measure your waist and inseam."

He frowned for a moment but did as you asked, then jumped when you wrapped your arms around his middle with the tape.

"Sorry, it will only take a second," you murmured, ignoring how muscular and firm he felt under your hands. You took note of the number and flushed when it came time to measure his inseam. You chewed on your lip and glanced around, searching for a worker to maybe do it instead, but none were nearby.

"Okay, I'm going to have to measure the length of your leg," you began to explain. "I need to... put my hand close to..." you trailed off and gestured vaguely towards his lap and it finally seemed to click.

"Oh," he said in surprise, glancing down. He cleared his throat and nodded but you could see the pink creeping up his neck.

"I'll be fast," you assured him, "unless you prefer I find someone else."

"No, that is quite alright," he told you, standing tall and tucking his hands behind his back. Glancing around the store once more, you fell to your knees with the measuring tape. You tried not to think about it, tried not to look, but his clothes were too snug as it was and it was right fucking there.

Jesus Christ, you had to get it together. You were not lusting after a time traveling Roman general in the middle of Bloomingdale's. But it was impossible to ignore the impressive looking bulge right at eye level.

"Okay," you said quickly, standing up so fast your head spun. "Got it, let's go."

You hurriedly dropped the measuring tape back on the counter and swiveled around, looking for men's pants while trying to hide how flustered you were. You grabbed a few pairs of jeans and khakis before adding them to Marcus's pile, and avoiding his eye, you pointed over to the corner.

"You can try them on in there."

You waited outside patiently, listening to him struggle with a zipper. You had to draw the line: there was no way you would help him with that. But when he emerged from the dressing room for approval wearing a nice fitting pair of jeans and a white polo shirt, you kind of missed those tight clothes from before. You gave him a smile and thumbs up and he grinned before stepping back into the dressing room. When he turned around and you saw his ass in those jeans, you tilted your head to the side and raised your eyebrows.

Okay, the new clothes weren't so bad, either.

You picked him out two pairs of pants, an assortment of shirts, and paid before going to the intimates floor to grab some underwear, socks, and pajamas. On the way to the men's section, you passed by some mannequins wearing lacy lingerie and robes. Marcus frowned and tugged on your elbow.

"What is that for?"

You glanced in the direction he was pointing and inwardly groaned.

"It's undergarments women wear," you explained, hoping to leave it at that, but he still had questions.

"What is the purpose of the colors if they are under your clothes?"

You sighed and pinched your nose. "It's for sex, okay?" you whispered to him, looking around quickly to make sure nobody could overhear you.

"Sex?" he repeated at full volume. You shushed him, your cheeks flaring with heat, but he just gave you a bewildered look. "Why must I be quiet?"

"We don't talk about sex in public here," you told him, voice still lowered. "It's inappropriate."

"Why on earth not?" he asked, but he kept his voice soft for your benefit as he followed you into the men's section. "Nothing is more natural or beautiful than sex."

"Yeah, well, I don't have all the answers, Marcus."

"And why would a woman drape herself in such garb? A woman's body is a work of art. It is meant to be worshiped and admired just as it is. One would not hang ornaments off a statue of Venus, so why would a woman -"

"I don't know, Marcus!" you said, grabbing a pack of boxers and then a pack of white socks. "Men just like it, I guess."

He scoffed and shook his head but chose not to say anything further when he picked up the agitation in your voice.

You paid for the rest of the clothes and handed him the bag to carry as you led him to the exit. "Are you hungry What do you usually eat around this time of day?"

"It varies. I quite like fish with some bread and cheese."

You thought about it for a moment before your face lit up and you snapped your fingers.

"I have an idea."

Right around the corner from Bloomingdale's was one of your favorite bagel places. You found a table outside and made him sit then hurried inside to order two lox bagels. You almost grabbed Diet Coke but then thought that might kill him, so instead you got two waters and met him back outside in less than ten minutes.

"Try this," was all you said, handing him a warm bagel wrapped in paper and smelling absolutely divine.

Carefully, he peeled the paper away and sniffed the bagel before taking a hesitant bite. You waited, your own bagel untouched, for his reaction. His eyes snapped up to yours and a slow smile spread across his face.

"This is magnificent."

You giggled and tore into the paper covering your own lunch. "I had a feeling you would like it. Fish, bread and cheese."

He nodded and took a bigger bite. "Very wise. Tell me," he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "How has no one asked your father for your hand in marriage? You are bright, strong and beautiful. I am shocked you are not taken."

You decided to let the taken comment go that time and swallowed your food before replying. "Our parents are dead, first of all. But secondly, even if someone was interested in marrying me, they wouldn't need to ask my father. They just ask the woman directly now."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "My apologies. I was unaware of your parents' passing."

"That's okay," you shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Danny was a teenager and I had just graduated high school." You looked up at him, realizing he wouldn't understand what that meant. "I was nineteen. I had to grow up fast and help keep an eye on Danny," you settled on saying, figuring that would sum it up enough.

He nodded and looked down at his food, quietly thinking over what you said. "Has a man ever asked for your hand?" he asked before taking another bite of food.

You laughed. "Uh, no."

"Why is that humorous?"

You sighed and glanced around. "I haven't exactly dated many winners." He cocked an eyebrow at you and you added, "I seem to only attract assholes."

"Ah," he said in understanding. "I am attracted to you. Does this make me an... asshole?"

Your eyelids fluttered and you nearly choked on your water. "W-what?"

"I said, I am attracted -"

"No, I heard you, I just needed a second to process what you said," you told him, feeling your heart beat loudly in your chest. He tilted his head at you curiously.

"Does this surprise you?"

You laughed and fanned the back of your neck nervously. "Um, yes, a little. People don't usually go around just announcing when they're attracted to someone. They're a little more subtle than that."

"Oh. Have I made you uncomfortable? I do apologize," he said, his deep brown eyes softening as he gazed at you across the table.

"It's okay, I just didn't expect it," you chuckled, waving him off and focusing on your food with a stupid smile stretched across your face. He watched you eat for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching as he replayed what you just told him.

"You did not say if you are attracted to me," he said, drawing your attention back up to him. "Is this because you are not, or are you being... subtle?"

You grinned and shook your head. "You have a weird way of flirting."

He smiled back, the creases next to his eyes deepening. "I told you. Where I am from, sex is not something to be ashamed of. It is enjoyable and discussed often. Unless one has devoted themselves to a life of celibacy."

Definitely not, you thought. He let the subject drop as he finished the rest of his lunch and sat back in his chair, looking around at the cars inching by and beeping their horns angrily. You remained quiet for a few minutes, debating on what to say, if you should say anything at all until you finally decided fuck it.

"I'm attracted to you, too."

His head swiveled in your direction and he grinned. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

You giggled in disbelief before you said, "you're welcome."

Something had shifted between you on the walk back to your apartment. It felt so different from just a few hours ago, and it wasn't just the shocking confession over lunch. You had learned a little more about each other, let the other in and shared personal details about your lives, trusting one another with your vulnerability. And for once, you didn't feel raw and exposed. Strangely, it felt like you could trust him. Maybe it was because you knew he would be gone in a few days and it didn't feel like you had much to lose.

However, when you got off the elevator and walked toward your apartment, the sounds of power tools and shouting coming from the other side of the door, Marcus stopped you. He plucked your hand from your side and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing over them gently while maintaining eye contact, the entire moment making your hands tremble and your heart to flutter excitedly in your chest.

"Thank you for today, my lady. I had a lovely time with you."

You smiled shyly at him and looked down at the ground.

"Me, too," you replied softly.

And it was then you realized you very much might have something to lose after all.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[thinkingotherwise]

I saw your post about Wind Breaker I was instantly hooked I was like FINALLY SOMEONE KNOW AND READ IT TOO….If can do you mind making a head canon about Jo Togame🙏. At this point I’m eating any crumbs that you left

Not to be biased but.. I love this man the most

Please Togame has the same VA as Shirosaki from 'My new boss is goofy' and I'm actually cryin' from laughter 😂 😂

Jo Togame making you his with your help

Spoilers for after the fight with Sakura

- Togame was a mystery to you, you heard some of the people talking about him being the second-in-command in Shishituren.

- Because of the rumours you knew him as someone scary and tough, a thug if you will, and tried to avoid him as soon as you knew what he looked like, when one of your friends pointed him out in your neighbourhood.

- Later on, you got to know he visited the nearby public bathhouse, you were shocked at the discovery but still tried to keep your distance from him.

- Whenever you saw the familiar sunglasses and the Shishituren jacket you became nervous and tried to hide in one of the alleys or behind the parked cars.

- But as time passed, you might have been still scared of him but you found yourself seeking him out on the streets.

- You noticed him walking down the street more often, his face more relaxed than ever before and his hair loose.

- You thought he actually looked quite nice like that, the usual rigidness gone and a small smile from time to time appearing on his face.

- Little did you know the smile was caused by you and your failed hide 'n seek game. Once you almost tripped over your own feet trying to hide behind the corner of the street and he found it hilarious.

- The day you officially met him, it was in one of the most cliche ways. You stared at him so much you walked in the streetlamp making him openly laugh at you.

- Yet he still came to your side and helped you up, asking if you were alright. He also brought some ice from the nearby shop and iced your forehead.

- Thanks to that you started talking and noticed he was actually nice and you somehow got along well.

- After befriending him you spent your days meeting each other and you either eat takeout or play some board games.

- He loved eating food and would always compete with you for the last piece of whatever it was you ordered.

- And while he tried to teach you how to play go, he was so overjoyed. Only because you always lost and he liked to see you slowly getting irritated.

- Togame thought you made such cute faces whenever something didn't go according to your plans.

- He would sometimes let you win just so you wouldn't stop playing with him.

- Everything was going swimmingly between the two of you. You got along well, but there was one thing you couldn't stop. You started liking Togame a little too much.

- Your mind started to drift towards him too frequently for it to be only friendly.

- And well when you decided to finally ask him out on a real date, not a hangout as friends, you thought you would write him a letter. He seemed like the old-type guy always wearing those monk-like clothes so a confession letter seemed perfect in your opinion.

- Unfortunately, before you could finish the written confession and gather some confidence to share it with him, he came to you for another late-night meeting.

- He brought some takeout as usual and when you went to retrieve the board game you left him alone in your living room. And because of the shock of him coming unannounced, you didn't realize you left him with your feelings written on the paper.

- While waiting for you he found the crumbled papers lying in the corner and got curious picking one of them and straightening it.

- The moment you came back to the room you were shocked, to say the least, and you didn't know what to do. Frozen in place your eyes were stuck on Togame reading through one of your attempts at confession letters.

- "What are you d-doing?!"

- You stuttered your voice rising in nervousness.

- Togame turned to you a smirk evident on his face, he picked the paper up and showed it to you casually.

- "Oh, just reading this thing."

- Your heart was beating unusually fast and you gripped the board and the pouch you held tighter. You were so flustered, you didn't plan this. What were you supposed to do now that he read this?

- He laughed at your awkwardness and stood up, the paper still in hand he took slow steps towards you.

- "You've got some way with words."

- He said and your gaze fell to the floor. He then leaned over you.

- "If you are serious, I'd be glad to be your boyfriend."

- His voice sent a shiver through your spine and you gazed at his face surprised.

- You slowly nodded your head in a daze and he snorted grabbing at your shoulders and pulling you towards his chest.

- Togame kept his tight hold on you, one of his hands moving around your back and the other combing through your hair.

- You returned the hug dropping the things in your hands to grab at the jacket of Togame's keeping him close thinking it must be some kind of dream.

- But his warmth confirmed that it truly was reality.

- Just like that, he used the chance you gave him to finally make you his. And you just knew he would be such a good and loyal boyfriend.

Tags: @misticbullet

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 

“Okay. Love you.” 

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 

Or maybe because he’s hot. 

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 

No reply, as usual. 

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one. 

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 

“Why did you…come after me?” 

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 

“A dragon clawed your face off?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

[madelynraemunson]

i neeeed you to hear me out on this one okay. okay okay so the song is casual by chappell roan and its about like being super intimate w a guy but he still tells his friends you're just a casual fuck. like some of the lyrics are "i've heard so many rumors that i'm just a girl that you bang on your couch" and "knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?" so like. eddie munson. angst. and reader whos fed up with him being so cocky to his friends ab how he gets her off while he brushes her off. PLEASE hear me out 🫣

IM HEARING YOU ALL THE WAY OUT 😩😩🗣️

(as someone who dated a literal INCEL in high school who was charismatic to all and manipulative to none but me this fucking triggered me. i see you boo)

CW: misogynist behavior, adult themes, 18+ minors DNI

eddie sweetie, this isn't you :( but without further a due...

"If you have to go around telling people that you're a good person, you probably aren’t a good person."

incel!asshole!modern!eddie x fem!innocent!reader

WC: 1.3k words | part two here

Ever since you became exclusive with the ‘Town Freak’, your friends have constantly been ripping your ass a new one.

They were all so wrong about Eddie Munson. Because beneath the rugged, edgy persona he likes to put on every day (spewing his ‘Abolish-The-Status-Quo’ Manifesto atop an unsteady table in the cafeteria) lies a woman-worshipping gentleman, a soft, romantic, misunderstood love-sick puppy who would do just about anything to know you like the back of his hand.

Your dream boy.

"No one ever wants to date the nice guy," Eddie would say to you, alluding to himself. You’d constantly deny his claim. “But the jocks? The rabbits in band? The chess club dweebs? Oh yeah, without a doubt. Anyone but the freak."

It all made you think Eddie was created perfectly for you. That there was some sort of invisible string in the halls of Hawkins High, waiting for just the right moment to pull you two together. And when you two kissed that one day after detention, his hands snaked gently around your waist behind the rusty, faded bleachers out by the stadium, it felt like a match made in heaven.

“You gonna be my girl?” Eddie grinned into you, stroking your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Mine and mine only?”

“Yours,” you whispered breathlessly to him before reeling him in for another blissful peck.

And soon, lonely afternoons in study hall turned into D&D campaigns with him and his friends. Mundane weekend errands turned into fishing trips with him and Wayne. And soon quiet, anxious car rides became karaoke and head-banging sessions. Once aimless and confused, lost in the melody of life, suddenly all the love songs were about Eddie. You finally found the one.

It all leads you to believe your friends were just jealous of you. True friends would be over the moon.

This afternoon you had a surprise for Eddie. Just last week, you lost your virginity to him and were still swooning over how caring and tender he was with you. Surely, that is the bare minimum for a guy, but the bare minimum is so hard to come by nowadays. Cookies for Discord night with his friends was the least you can do to show how much you appreciate your boyfriend.

After extracurriculars, you rush home to get the oven going, throwing down in the kitchen to make the best snickerdoodles Eddie will ever have. And after one last look in the mirror, fixing your flirty skirt and your plump glossy lips, you set off to Forrest Hills Trailer Park.

Eddie has his headset on so he doesn’t hear your multiple knocks at the door. You knew he would be home though, dude’s got nowhere else to be on a Friday night. Eventually, you decide to hobble out back, looking through one of the windows by the kitchen that he always cracked open just so he doesn’t hotbox the place.

“I’m right behind you, right behind you!” Eddie warns his friends as he nears them in the game. “Gonna need some backup from Gareth the Great.”

Since he’s focused on his electronics, you decide to shoot him a text message. Hopefully then he’ll come to the door.

Hi baby 💕 I brought you some homemade snickerdoodles :)

You can’t help but smile when you hear your custom text-tone go off. But, to your surprise, you watch as Eddie turns a blind eye, chucking his phone onto the nearby couch instead of answering your text.

What the fuck?

"Ugh. She's texting me again," your boyfriend grumbles to the boys as he proceeds with the game. "She's kinda annoying, to be honest. Gonna wait a while before I respond.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Pressing your ear against the mesh blinds that separated you two from each other, you decide to listen in for a while longer.

“Don’t you think you’re stringing her along, Eds?”

Yeah, don’t you think? you think to yourself.

“Yeah, but… free pink,” Eddie sneers with a tsk and shrug. “However I want, whenever I want. She just makes it so easy.”

Eddie then starts to spill the details of taking your virginity, about how you were “chimping out” underneath him on his couch while Wayne was sleeping. What was a sacred ordeal to you was made to sound like a cheap, subpar experience to Eddie. His commentary sends the boys into a spiral, fits of hooting and hollering like it was the best stand-up bit they’ve heard in a long time. Resentment simmers within you. This can’t be the same boy.

“How’d you get a pretty girl like that anyway?” comes another voice in the call.

“Pretty fucking easy,” Eddie scoffs. “You just tell her exactly what she wants to hear. Just say what she says right back to her and the panties come right off. She’ll think you’re soulmates.”

The room erupts with virtual laughter, followed by obnoxious sound effects that the app enables users to send to one another. Your stomach begins to twist, the forbidden cookie dough you ingested just an hour prior threatening to make its way back up.

“HAHAHA,” someone in the chat cackles. “Eds will do anything for that roast beef.”

“I’ve always been keen on them deli meats. Am I right, boys?”

The snickering commences again. Eddie thanks the Discord guys as they extol him in compliments, encouraging him to write a playbook on how to get a proper lay. Eddie ends up shutting down the idea. But not because he thinks it’s fucked. No. It’s because he claims he doesn’t “have to try” and that you just “put out” at the drop of a hat.

The tray of Eddie’s undeserved cookies shakes in your hands as your body begins to tremble. You’re going to be sick. And just when you think it can’t get anymore twisted, it does.

“Hey, what do you think about that girl from math class with the fat ass?”

“Harmony?”

“Yeah.”

“God if she’s into me too I’d dump my girl in a heartbeat,” Eddie swoons.

Of course he’d gawk over Harmony. Outside of Tammy Thompson and Chrissy Cunningham, Harmony Heathers was next up to bat for the Queen of Hawkins High.

“She’s got fucking beanbags where her ass should be. I’d do just about anything for her.”

“And her.”

“Yeah and I’d do her.”

"I'd do her too," Eddie admits.

That’s enough.

You’ve heard enough to know that Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was just like the rest. Throwing the snickerdoodle cookies you made for him into the trash, you sprint back to your car and set off for your house, music blaring the entirety of the commute.

My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around

I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

You slam the door to your room the moment you get home. And before stripping down and hopping into the safety of a warm shower, you send Eddie one last text.

Actually, you know what? It’s over. Don’t talk to me ever again.

Washing the grossness off of you was the only way you felt you could feel okay.

You wanted the remnants of Eddie OFF of your body. Hysterically sobbing, you attempt scrub off all the dead skin on your body with a loofah. Frustrated tears roll down your face.

I thought you thought of me better, Someone you couldn't lose

You wanted all the dead cells off of you. You wanted a new body. You wanted a new life.

And you couldn’t wait to grow newer, thicker skin. A new shell of you. It will be skin that Eddie can never say he touched.

You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss,

Fuck Eddie Munson.

I have anger issues

You give the weird kid a chance, and then suddenly he acts like you’re the freak.

[eddiesghxst]

perv loser eddie is something that can actually be so personal. it’s in the way he’s such a loser borderline obsessed little stalker.

i’m not quite sure how to put this into words but he is whipped, the true definition. yes he loves you, blah blah blah. let’s go deeper into that love. it’s psycho, when he sees you for the first time his heart bursts, he follows you around in the halls when you’re in school even tho you don’t know him and he doesn’t even know you. you think it’s a weird coincidence that he’s always there. And when you confront him, his knees literally almost drop to the ground in your presence. when you go see him during a hellfire club session, he stops all d&d when he sees you wait outside the closed door. he ignores all protests from the guys that this is a huge campaign, one HE’S been planning. it doesn’t even matter, he would end all d&d sessions 15 minutes early if you asked him to, he’d cancel a session if you slipped him a note before saying you’d be home with no panties on, he’d forget to tell dustin that he had to blow him off because you needed him to take you out to a new chick flick movie.

like i said previously about the inspiration from an ex thing, i love the way cigarette smoke smells. my ex was a smoker and he knew this and it was “our thing”

i think eddie would be majorly turned on if he found this out. i’m not talking about something odd like this ex of mine would blow smoke in my face or whatever but i’m just saying it was a comforting smell. i’m currently out of the country in europe where everyone smokes and i can smell it drifting up to my apartment window. i can just imagine calling eddie who’s back in indiana and telling him how horny you are, how the smell reminds you of him. he’s such a fucking loser tho. he’s been desperate since you’ve been away, having withdrawals, he’s an addict. he fucks himself to sleep with his hand every night and fucks himself awake every morning trying to get some release, his flesh light and hand won’t ever compare. he smokes and plays guitar and thinks of you, each exhale of smoke and he gets anxious thinking about you.

but when you’re back, he doesn’t let you out of the trailer for a good 24 hrs. his only plan is to smoke with you and fuck your brains out. i mean fucking like a madman. he’s fucking his anger and stress out on you, stress about you being away from his side, anger that you’ve been touching yourself away from him. i’m not talking 2 orgasms and you’re done. we’re talking about several upon several chain orgasms he’s bringing you. he wants you sobbing, he never wants you to leave his side.

he’s a loser.

- 🫶 anon (i went overboard)

no bc ur so right stink. everything abt this is so fucking correct, i’m sick to my stomach i want him

————

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, eddie has no spine when it comes to his girl. meaning, he will drop everything he’s doing to please you or do whatever you ask for, no matter the request (if he’s in a mood, he might bitch about it a little, but he will bitch and get the job done okay).

so when you ask eddie if he can pick you up from the airport on the day he’s planned to have dnd, obviously eddie pushes his campaign back because hello, his girl needs a ride.

he’s waiting for you at your terminal with a single rose and a cute little teddy bear and you giggle when you see him because he looks so out of place wearing his usual black leather clothing and heavy chains whilst holding the soft items.

you tell him all about your trip on your way to his trailer, telling him about your time sightseeing and trying new foods and meeting new people.

you’re still rambling about your trip when you walk into his trailer, but it doesn’t last long before eddie’s got you bent over the edge of his bed, clinging to the soft teddy bear and moaning his name. “fuck, i missed this pussy. did she miss me? she miss how good i fuck her, hm?” he pants against your ear. you quiver beneath him, crying out for him as you push back against his hips.

“feels so good, eddie. gonna cum, please can i cum?”

and eddie’s shaking his head and clicking his tongue, “no i don’t think so, sweetheart. i gave you one rule—- told you no touching and you broke that rule.“ he says, low with a patronizing tone and you sob into his sheets as a chorus of sorry’s leave your mouth.

“so you don’t get to cum until i say you can, okay? and i plan on really taking my time with this precious cunt of yours since she seemed to miss me so much.” his hand cracks down on your ass cheek and you cry out as he lets out a satisfied hum.

and eddie kept true to his word, he didn’t let up until he was thoroughly satisfied and you were nothing but a cock drunk mess. you both wouldn’t have it any other way <3

————

more loser perv!eddie ♡

[aireia]

Oh universe! — What happens when you fall in love with the vice president of the student council?

tw/cw: gn! reader, fluff + crack(?). gojo's an idiot. not proofread + rushed. author is stupidly sick, fic makes zero sense.

note: don't expect too much from this fic D: —masterlist

The universe has a love-hate relationship with Satoru. No, screw that, it’s against Satoru Gojo. It’s against his relationship between him and the person standing beside him in the student council room, because he can no longer count how many times he’s tried to confess to you, and gotten interrupted by another student pulling you or him away. 

Now, he knows both of you are busy as leaders in the student council, and he’s fairly popular too, but that doesn’t have any business to meddle with his love life! Especially because he’s also lost track of how much money he’s spent on these failed confessions – excluding the tubs of ice cream he buys after each one to comfort himself. (Suguru and Shoko have to take some away from him to prevent him from eating that much sugar.)

“How many is that?” Suguru asked his brunette friend as they both stared out the window at the scene of you being dragged away by students while Satoru sighed in defeat. “I dunno, sixth? Maybe seventh? We just need to make sure he doesn’t eat enough desserts to get himself sick. Y/n told me something about a meeting they would be having tomorrow about our graduation trip.” “Just bribe him with the fact that they’re going to be there. He’ll be sure to return back to whatever he’s on before all the confessions.”

-

“Really?!” Satoru’s eyes lit up right before he managed to grab the 2nd tub of strawberry ice cream. “...Are you really the president of the student council? How do you not know about this?” “I was only focusing on y/n when they said the news.” 

That caused both his friends’ faces to contort into disgust. Maybe they shouldn’t have told him and let him miss the meeting instead, but you’d probably be kind enough to find him before the meeting and drag him there.

-

“A trip to the mountains…” you mumbled to yourself as you scanned through the papers that were handed out during the meeting. You had been assigned to take care of accommodations. Satoru, on the other hand, was devastated . He had been assigned to take care of the food. No doubt all of you would be getting kikufuku for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for three days straight.

That would’ve been the case, if he didn’t drag you to multiple cafes to plan the trip. Granted, he did treat you to a lot of your favourite snacks and drinks, so going out with him wasn’t that bad. 

The both of you sat in silence most of the time, surprisingly. Sometimes the snowy haired male would sneak in some small talk, but the only time you spoke half the time would be for each other’s opinions. Satoru tried to get you to agree to the worst diets you’ve seen in your entire life. You rejected. 

You tried to propose a few spots to stay in. and Satoru agreed to most of them, though you scrapped your own ideas just moments after he agreed. 

-

You breathed out through your mouth, watching as puffs of smoke escaped your lips. You were standing on the balcony of your room. Staring at the city you call home from the mountains. 

“There you are.” Someone draped a blanket over your trembling body. It’s Satoru, you noted. You could recognise his voice even in a room full of people. “You made a good choice choosing this place. The view is pretty.” Satoru sang words of praise to you, joining you on the balcony. 

“Thank you,” you responded, not bothering to look at him. A long period of silence ensued between the both of you, and Satoru found it to be torture. You’re alone, right? That means he can confess. But how? He looks at your lips. They’re trembling from the cold. 

“Your lips look cold. Do you think I could warm them up for you?” his words spilled out before he processed it. You looked at him weirdly before laughing.

“Is that… How you confess to people?” you continued to laugh, and it reminded him of the first breeze of spring. Playful, calm, refreshing from the cold from winter. Once he realised what he had said, he choked on air and stuttered out, “It’s not! I swear it’s just–” Satoru tried to find the words to explain himself, his head now working overtime to search for the vocabulary that left his mind when these types of situations happened. 

You grinned and cupped his cheeks before pulling him down to gently kiss him, only pulling away once the both of you had relaxed. You couldn’t help but smile at the dust of pink on his face. You were sure there were some on your cheeks too.

“Yea, it is warmer now.”

Maybe the universe isn’t all that against him after all.

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

[morganbritton132]

I love that Eddie is a craft guy! It just makes so much sense. Do you think he's one of those people who is CONSTANTLY doing a new craft and their house is just littered with Eddie's crafts, and he's always making little hand made gifts for Steve, the party and the band? I can totally imagine Steve coming home and the house just being in total disarray and Eddie's just like "I made a bird table and i personalised all your coffee cups :))"

Eddie Munson and the ADHD urge to start a new project before you finished the last one.

Despite Eddie’s big personality and the joy he gets galivanting across cafeteria tables and award show stages, he is very much a homebody. His favorite places growing up was his bedroom, Gareth’s garage, and the drama room where he hosted D&D. Then he went on tour and when the shows were over, he just wanted to be home.

He liked being able to strip away the Eddie Munson persona, sit down, and channel all the ideas in his head into a creative output.

Honestly, making money just made it worse. He can afford shit now.

Steve’s the opposite though.

Steve likes to be out of the house. He was a kid that lived in a big house with parents that never wanted to see or hear him, sometimes year-round sports were the only thing keeping him sane. Once Eddie made it big and was touring, Steve was once again alone in a big empty house and so he found things to do.

He meets up with Robin at least once a week to get dinner and drinks, and sometimes they go dancing or they sing karaoke. Him and Dustin meet up semi-regularly to catch up. He was a part of their neighborhood walking group before Diane annoyed him out of it. He goes bowling with some teachers from work occasionally and takes a pottery class that he sucks at. Him and Max are a part of a trivia team that has only ever succeeded at being the drunkest team in the game.

So, the combination of ‘Steve is 90% of my impulse control and he’s not here right now’ and ‘If I don’t create something, I will die’ means that sometimes Steve comes home to a new windchime or a questionably made bird house.

 Sometimes he comes home to Eddie embroidering one of his jackets by hand even though he bought an embroidery machine that he has never used. Other times, he comes home and Eddie has carved every bar of soap they had into a little fucked-up guy or he found a recorder and wants to play Steve a song.

Or sometimes, Steve returns home from the cooking class he’s taking at their local community center to beads. Beads everywhere.

Beads in the carpet. Beads on the hardwood. Beads in their shoes by the stairs. Beads everywhere.

Steve – who is pretty Type-A about their house being clean and organized because he has a shit memory and needs to be able to find things – very calmly sits aside the ravioli that he made and says, “Eddie, what the fuck?”

“I dropped them.”

Steve makes a gesture like ‘yeah, no shit’ and then just makes a distressed noise, but Eddie waves him off as he dumps a handful of beads into the good punch bowl that they use for parties, “Don’t blame me. Your cat tripped me. I nearly brained myself.”

“She’s only my cat when she’s bad,” Steve sighs, sitting down to help pick the beads up. “Why do you have beads anyways? Since when do we have beads?”

“Do you remember those beaded lizard keychains?” Eddie asks, and then when all he got was silence. “I’m going to make you one…after we pick up two thousand pony beads.”

Steve makes another noise that’s somewhere between ‘you’re causing me actual pain’ and ‘I love you so much it makes me stupid’ and Eddie grins at him. He gestures to the punch bowl and says, “Stevie, think about it. Once we fill this bad boy up, we can separate the beads by color. That’ll be fun, right?”

“…Yeah, I’d actually really like that.”

[ossiethegreat]

I'm not sure if this has been asked before, but what are your Delta headcanons? :D

HIII THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!

so I am usually terrified of these questions because of my crippling social anxiety, but I love Delta too much to NOT yap about him..

Alright so I’ve seen some other people (howls and sandee) talk about how he would have toxic masculinity and have difficulty dealing with emotions. I COMPLETELY agree with this, he absolutely would.

He would most definitely overwork himself in an attempt to prove his bravery and whatnot. He gets himself badly hurt in fights and proceeds to brush it off because he doesn’t want to look weak. (Loser)

So I like to headcannon that he eventually gets a service dog to help him with this issue, since the injuries were very inconvenient, and Epic and Color were worried for his physical and mental health.

If he ever overwhelms himself by running around and constantly helping people, the dog would do its job and force him to take a break :3

(I drew him with the doggy once) (its name is Zorox) (take a guess why)

Anyway obviously he would be opposed to the idea of a service animal because “that’s stupid, service animals are for disabled people, I’m perfectly fine” but Color and Epic forced him to for his own good.

He grew fond of the dog after a while, and accepted the idea since it was actually helping him.

-

Anyway enough of the dog, I wanna talk about him and Color.. 😣

So basically I’ve drawn ship art of them and I’d like to say I headcannon them as exes. Howls at some point said they could have been roommates in the Omega Timeline and I’ve just stuck with that because I’m not original.

I think the isolation Color went through made him very touch starved, and he attached to Delta because he was one of the first people he saw after a long time.

Delta, on the other hand, in general is a very social and friendly person (in his own ways), so he was just nice talkative to Color as he is to most people.

Anyway I think they dated because roommates lore /j

It ended up not working because Delta wasn’t very good with relationships, and his personality and morals clashed with Color’s. They broke up and stayed on good terms as friends 😋😋

-

As for Delta and Bravery, the two are literally just besties.

I think Delta initially had a father/kid relationship with Frisk, and he was extremely crushed when he failed to save them. It was like losing a kid basically, and he probably forced himself to help people all over to make up for his mistakes.

He ended up exhausting himself, and Core found him when he was having a mental crisis due to all of the guilt and stress he was put through, and he was later relocated at the OT.

As for Bravery, as Delta was recovering from his little guilt trip, he got to know the kid better and learned about who they were, their backstory, how they died.

He felt bad at first, convincing himself that he was just trying to replace Frisk to get over their death, but Bravery urged him not to have those thoughts because he wasn’t being “brave.”

Whining about the past wasn’t something a brave person would do. He should move on because dwelling on it wasn’t going to help him get better, or stronger.

Poor Bravery accidentally convinced him to push down his feelings 😭😭

But other than that, they just act like father and kid all the time, like best friends. Bravery offers him battle advice, keeps him from falling apart when things go wrong, and they work as a team.

In return, Delta takes the kids places they always wanted to see, lets them try new things, basically just letting them experience being a curious kid again, as they died WAY too early.

okay I’m done yapping because my phone’s about to die and it’s almost my curfew at camp 😣😣

PLEASE add to this if yall have more headcannons I love him :3

Delta belongs to animatedzorox

[sunsetcougar]

Lutes arm is a custom carmine special. I also hc that when Carmilla learns about the exorcists she feels bad for em. She makes lutes arm very bird like and the next day a bunch of exorcists are on her doorstep with arms full of angelic weapons. Some want to learn how to make weapons, others want to help with testing and r&d. Some are still wary cause Carmilla was the first to hurt one of them.

Of course Carmilla is a total mom and within a week she’s got em following around like ducklings.

Before they sent them to wrath the hotel was probably the only structure big enough and staffed enough to house em all. For a solid week residents would be tripping over random cuddle piles of exorcists because they’re communal and hate the idea of being isolated from each other (they were offered private rooms).

Yes!! Ok so long post incoming because (mostly via Discord conversation) Carmilla has become a very important figure in this AU and I’m going to ramble.

It started with Lute’s arm. It was clear that it wasn’t going to regenerate, she’s an amputee permanently. It was Vaggie’s idea to ask Carmilla if she could make a prosthetic incorporating angelic steel.

Carmilla was incredibly wary at first, she did kill an exorcist and seeing how defensive they could be of each other she was scared of the possibility that they’d target her for what she did. But Vaggie convinced her and she and her daughters created an arm for Lute. Due to the nature of it, there is a connecting joint implanted in Lute’s shoulder, but her enhanced healing let her bounce back from that quite quickly. The prosthetic can be taken on and off, save for that implanted part.

Seeing the success of Lute’s prosthetic the next exorcist to approach Carmilla was Waffle. He (he’s trans masc) lost the tip of his right wing in the hotel battle and has been grounded ever since. Despite knowing that Carmilla killed Stabitha (as she’s been dubbed) he was willing to risk visiting her without Charlie and Vaggie’s protection on the chance that she could help him fly again.

That prosthetic was not easy to make and he requires a counter weight on his left wing to even him out, but the Carmines managed and Waffle was over the moon.

After Waffle showed off his prosthetic the other exorcists who’d been disabled and/or permanently injured by the battle quickly followed the example and went to Carmilla, requesting more custom prosthetics, braces, and various other aids. (Cygnus a cane and leg brace, Nyx a knee brace, Brick a cane, Flour an elbow and wrist brace, etc).

This new found comfort with the Carmines prompted more social visits, and exorcists like Lull quickly found a place helping them test out their designs. (Lull and Odette got banished to one of the factories on the edge of the Carmine’s territory after a bit to much structural damage). And while Carmilla ends up being a mom to the whole flock, she fully adopts an exorcist named Bishop. (If people want to know about them I’ll make another post.)

Carmilla ends up opening a branch of her business dedicated to medicine and hell steel prosthetics and aids for sinners and hellborn who may not be able to afford something of the same quality from Sloth. This gives her financial security with the loss of angelic steel supply, and expands her influence both in and out of the Pride ring. Long story short, Carmilla’s compassion and ability to love others (rare among sinners) is what causes her to become the single most powerful Overlord in Pride.

Ok ramble over! I’m ending it here because this is getting really long and there’s honestly a small essay worth of things I could add.

[hoppers-babygirl]

Saw your post requests tonight, could you do something Bucky Barnes X reader? With readers family being extremely nosy on Thanksgiving? You know the usual questions, for example: when/how did you meet? when will you get married/engaged? when you having kids? Are you living together?

Thankful

Author: hoppers-babygirl

Word count: 1976ish

A/N: Hope you enjoy this! Graphics by @firefly-graphics

The trip to your parent’s place was filled with laughs, kisses and a few rest stops. It was the first time Bucky was going to meet your family since you started dating and being scared was one of the many emotions you felt. Not because your family wouldn’t like him but just because you knew how overbearing your family could be during the holidays but Bucky insisted that he could handle it so that's how you found yourselves driving to upstate New York, to your parents place.

Soft lips pressed a kiss to the back of your hand which snapped you from your thoughts and you smiled over at Bucky. “It’ll be fine, Doll. I promise I can handle it.” He said.

“I know I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed or trapped around all these loud nosy people.” You chuckle softly, moving your hand to caress his cheek as he drives, which he appreciated.

“Baby.. Do you happen to forget that we work for the avengers? Have you been in a room with any of them at all?” He laughed and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay- that is true! But these are people you’re meeting for the first time.” You counter.

His brow quirks, “Do you forget that everyone was a stranger to me at one point including you? I think I can handle being around a roomful of strangers for a couple hours, plus they’re your family. It's important to meet them, especially since I love you so much.” He grins at you before the navigator told him the destination was close.

After a few moments the car was parked and Bucky had rounded the front to open your door. Getting out you grabbed the cupcakes you made just so you didn’t show up empty handed before walking up to the front door of your childhood home. Bucky politely knocked before his arm snaked around your waist keeping you close, today he opted to wear a long sleeve and his usual leather glove long with his leather jacket, your parents knew who he was and you understood his hesitation but you reassured him that your family would be considerate given his past.

A second passes and your mom answers the door, she greets you both with a big smile and moves out the entryway for you to step inside. Bucky takes the cupcakes from your hands so you and your parents can share a hug as well as take your jacket off to hang it up.

Shyly he shifts his weight from foot to foot until you turn your attention to him with a bright smile. “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend Bucky that I’ve been telling you about?” You nod softly before you take the cupcakes and walk them into the kitchen leaving Bucky to say his hellos with your parents.

He looks a bit nervous but you give him a smile to help sooth him which it does, he gives your mom a quick hug and gives your dad a handshake before they go back into the kitchen.

Your mom checks on the turkey as your younger sister comes in and gives you a hug, while everyone’s attention is occupied, Bucky decides to slip off his jacket as well as his gloves. “He really is cute.” He smiled at your sister's whisper, not sure if anyone knew he had enhanced hearing so he kept his pride to himself.

Instead he walked over and greeted your little sister. “Doll here’s told me lots about you. It’s nice to finally meet you, I do hope you’re enjoying your break from college.” He said, your sister smiled up at him.

“I am, thank you. But now I’m worried about the things you’ve heard.” She laughs.

“All good things, I promise.” He chuckled, a man came down the stairs followed by a woman who held a young boy in her arms. The man looked more like you causing Bucky to assume that was your older brother.

“Hey man it’s nice to finally meet you.” Your brother gives Bucky a smile and one of those weird manly handshakes with a shoulder pat which makes you giggle softly under your breath.

“It’s nice to meet you too, all of you, really.” Bucky nodded and looked around the room.

The woman holding the small child greets you both quietly before she goes over to the fridge to grab a juice box for the little one in her arms.

Your dad moves into the living room along with your brother while your sister in law sits at the kitchen table with her son. He’s happily babbling, not caring much for everything that was happening around him besides the fact that soon enough he too would be enjoying a yummy dinner.

Your sister grabbed a cupcake and took a bite before she spoke, “So how did you and my sister meet?”

You sit down and babble quietly with your nephew while Bucky answers your sister. “We met at work actually, since she works with the CEO of Stark Industries and I work with the husband of the CEO of Stark Industries, we were bound to run into one another which we did often.” He flashed you a soft smile as you helped occupy your nephew.

The sight made his heart clench but he turned his attention to your mother who now spoke up.

“You two have been going out some time now, things must be serious huh?” Teasingly she waggled her brows at Bucky which made him chuckle.

“I’d like to say they’re pretty serious. I really do love your daughter and I do my best to make her happy.” He replied.

His answer makes you smile. “We moved in together a couple months ago to our own place near Stark tower.” You speak up. Bucky moves to sit beside you at the table and rests his arm on the back of your chair, a football game plays in the background as you hear your father and brother mumbling things to the television.

Your nephew takes note of Bucky and tries to reach out to him which makes the dark haired man chuckle softly. He coos at the little one and lets his small fingers run along his cool metal hand which makes the boy let out a soft squeak.

Your sister in law speaks up, “So Bucky do you have any nieces and nephews? You seem like a natural when it comes to kids.”

He nodded. “Mmhm I do, my little sister Rebecca had children. Although I never got to meet them because of my circumstances, I am happy to hear she had quite the life.”

The woman nodded and gently bounced the little one in her arms.

“You two ever think about having kids?” Your mom asked from across the room, her hands busy peeling potatoes.

The question made your cheeks warm up. “Mother, we just moved in together, not that long ago.”

“So? Doesn’t mean you two can’t think about your future together. I’m assuming you see a future together right?” She aims this question at Bucky who nods without missing a beat.

You can’t help the excited butterflies that fill your belly. “We haven’t even spoken about it much, once we do then we’ll let you know our plan.” You reply with a laugh, brushing your mother off.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know the plan.” He teases, speaking to your mom.

She nodded and finished up peeling the potatoes before she set them on the stove. Dinner was almost ready which helped you relax a bit, so far things weren’t as bad as they could’ve been but you still have nerves bubbling into your chest as everyone spoke.

Bucky could sense your nerves and he rubbed your back soothingly, eventually your sister in law took your nephew into the living room and joined your brother on the couch. The sight of the three cuddling up together to watch the football game made you indulge in a daydream with Bucky that you rarely allowed yourself.

It was of you both laughing and enjoying family dinners such as this one but instead of showing up with cupcakes you show up with a little girl of your own. A cousin your nephew could get to know once they’re both older.

You didn’t realize you were that spaced out until Bucky gave your shoulder a little shake, leaning in he whispered, “You okay baby?” Pulling back he looked at your features.

You nod and get up from your seat and you grab a bottle of water for yourself trying to distract yourself from the sweet little daydream. Taking a drink or two from the bottle you sat back down beside Bucky to which his arm curled around your shoulders once again, he gave your cheek a quick kiss which made you smile.

Your mom asked your little sister to set the dining room table which she did, meanwhile the door rang once again, you had an older sister but she had a family of her own which you assumed she’d be staying with her husbands family as they were closer but soon enough your niece came rushing in to give your mother a big hug. A toothy grin on her lips as she flung herself into your moms arms.

Your older sister and her husband came in moments later, she was sporting a small baby bump which made tears spring to your mothers eyes. Everyone chimed in and said congratulations, Bucky held you a bit closer as it grew a little louder in the home thanks to the surprise.

“Why don’t we take a step outside?” You whisper against his shoulder, looking up at him with soft eyes.

He nodded and got up to grab his coat for you. “I’ll meet you out there once you’re done?” He asked.

“Yeah baby, I’ll just be a moment or two.” With that he politely excuses himself for a breath of fresh air while you greet your sister and her family.

Just as you promised, a few moments later you meet Bucky outside on your family's porch and he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. “Are you doing okay so far?” You ask.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’m okay, I just needed a moment alone with you.” His chest is to your back, his lips press a few butterfly kisses to your neck.

You hum softly in appreciation and the two of you have a few stolen kisses shared together before your little sister comes out to tell you and Bucky that dinner was ready. A faint blush crept up his neck at the interruption, giving your sister a sheepish smile. He kissed your cheek once more before holding the door open for you to head back inside.

Your family is gathered at the beautifully set dining table, your niece happily babbling about some children's show to your brother while your mom's passing around the mashed potatoes, you feel a hand rest upon your knee and smile up at Bucky as you recognize his touch. Your heart flutters at his smile, he genuinely looked happy.

Leaning in, you whisper to him, “I love you.” His blue eyes grow wide for a second but his smile stays plastered to his lips.

“I love you too, Doll. You’re what I’m most thankful for this year.” He says before he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Bucky.” You reply. “Maybe next year I’ll be hosting dinner with a ring?” You tease with a soft laugh, earning a playful pinch to your side.

The rest of your evening you spend laughing, chatting and eating dinner with your family. You knew this is exactly how you wanted to spend your holidays, with your family and with the man you loved most.

[xiaq]

How did you and B meet?

I'm sure I've talked about this before, but here's the Official Story from our reception invitations:

Erica met B through their mutual friend G while rock climbing at the Austin greenbelt in April of 2019.

Erica had just purchased a new camera and 80% of the photos she took that day were of B. She shyly sent B the best ones and noted he was a lovely subject. B said, “thanks bro” and used those pictures for his Bumble profile.

It was an auspicious beginning.

At the time, B was living and working in Austin while Erica was a PhD student in Dallas. She often visited “home” to see her parents and climb, so they met up regularly over the next two years.

When the pandemic hit, Erica moved back to Austin to work on her dissertation, and isolated with a small group of climbers that included B. They also started playing D&D together.

Erica’s character was a chaotic neutral half-elf bard who cast spells and cantrips exclusively via limerick. Her go-to solutions to problems they encountered were seduction, inciting political rebellion, befriending monsters, and stabbing.

B played a lawful good half-elf paladin who found Erica’s character extremely vexing.

In real life, however, they had quite a bit in common, and started spending time alone outside of group climbing and D&D meetups. Later, they would discover they had a mutual romantic interest at this point, but neither acted on it since Erica had accepted a visiting professorship in Colorado. She moved in July.

When Erica returned briefly to Austin over spring break the following year, she spent most of her time with B: climbing, hiking, grilling at her parent’s place, and staunchly denying there was anything happening between them even if she wished there was because honestly, mom, he's never shown the slightest bit of interest in me (her father scoffed loudly from the other room).

She decided to move back to Austin at the end of the school year. When B (and G) came to visit her a few weeks before she moved, Erica decided to be brave and make her intentions known. While watching a UFC fight with B on the couch, she tucked her toes, lasciviously, under B’s thigh.

Shockingly, he did not respond to this unequivocal romantic overture. But he did help her remove all the temporary wallpaper on her ugly rental cabinets before they left, so that was nice.

The following month, when Erica moved back to Austin, B asked if she’d like to come over for dinner after climbing. She agreed because she wanted to procrastinate unpacking and also she was slightly in love with him. The following day, he asked if she wanted to have dinner again. She did.

“Wow,” Erica said to her mother that morning, “I guess B is really lonely since G moved. He’s been asking me to hang out with him a lot.”

“You're an idiot,” her mother said.

That night, B asked Erica if she'd ever thought about them dating.

“I’m thinking about it now,” she said, cavalier, suave, blasé, and not nervous at all.

This wasn’t a lie, but she had also thought about it once or twice prior to that moment as well.

“Great,” B said, “How would you feel if I kissed you?”

And Erica said, “Yeah, I’d feel pretty good about that.”

A few weeks later, B casually showed Erica an empty shelf in his bathroom cabinet and an inviting space in his closet and a couple spare drawers in his dresser and she, equally casually, moved in with him.

Over the next year, the apartment’s decor and Erica’s diet improved drastically. They traveled, they climbed, they spent time with each others families. They lived, laughed, loved and reduced, reused, recycled. Shortly after moving into their new house, combining bank accounts, making each other their medical powers of attorney, solidifying their retirement plans, and discussing whether getting married would have tax benefits, they realized most people got engaged before doing…a good portion of those things. So they planned to propose to each other.

Christmas of 2022, they took a road trip across Colorado. B proposed to Erica on the gondola in Telluride; two days later, Erica proposed to B on the Train to Cascade Canyon in Durango. They both said yes.

In August 2023 they will elope, with their dog Deacon as a witness, to Mt. Rainier national park.

In November 2023, they’ll celebrate with their friends and family at a backyard reception that will include food, drinks, swimming, croquet, corn hole, axe-throwing and a bounce house (the axe-throwing and the bounce-house will be on opposite sides of the lawn; if it's cold, the pool will be heated). They hope you’ll come and share their joy with them.

[belit0]

Hello!! I'd love to see Madara with a single mama. Baby could be hers and the dad died or poofed, or could be her friends passed and in their will they requested her to care for the baby. With Madaras temperament I think a little girl would be so perfect! She'd put flowers in his hair or share her bows and no one dares say A THING about it. Please and thank you!!

As soon as I received this request, I had to write it, because I love Madara's tender side (and having a break from nsfw things is also nice)!🤗💕

This ended up being way longer than I anticipated, I hope you like it!

(Y/N) finally realized the depth of her problems when she held her baby in her arms, the physical proof that things were not going to be easy at all. Of course, she adored her little girl, and after giving birth alone and unaided, without any support, she knew it would be the two of them against the world.

One night of passion and need turned into a lifelong contract with the one she now carries in her arms, and nine months of pregnancy were far from easy. (Y/N) only wanted to feel alive, experience some sort of sensation, and she made the mistake of getting involved with a man who was only interested in the bounty between her legs.

With no clan, no family, and no friends, she went through gestation on her own, until the physical changes in her body would no longer allow her to work. She couldn’t do anything to earn a living, resorting to begging for charity among the wealthy as her only source of income.

Childbirth was devastating and traumatic, full of uncertainty and terror. The pain was overriding, and (Y/N) had to sneak into an abandoned barn in order to give birth indoors. She didn't know if she or the baby would survive, pushing and struggling alone to finally meet the only bit of happiness in her life. After hours of suffering, hearing her daughter's cry gave her back her willpower, and she forgot all her negative thoughts.

It would be difficult, but the two of them would make it together.

(Y/N) found a new motivation in her little ray of sunshine, and fortunately, people were kinder when donating money because of the baby in her arms. For years, she managed to get by, doing her best to find shelter and food.

When her child was five years old, (Y/N) knew things had to change. Her daughter could not grow up on the streets, exposed to any person or factor that would harm her, and the woman became determined to find a permanent destination for them both.

She asked anyone who might be willing to talk to her about possible inexpensive and friendly places to go, and got information about a particular territory. The journey would be long and laborious, a month of walking at least, but as the person who gave her the information related, "Senjus are the most compassionate and empathetic clan in the whole world, if anyone will help you, it will be them."

Ignorant of the war and all the chaos surrounding that particular family, (Y/N) embarked on a journey to find them, praying the legends about the mighty Hashirama were true.

The first weeks passed without any problem, fifteen days of movement where she met people kind enough to give them both a hot meal and a place to spend a few nights. Her little girl resisted the adversities alongside her like a warrior and never stopped smiling. Her attitude helped (Y/N) stay afloat, fighting against life to reach their destination.

The last two weeks of the trip got chaotic, with hints of war along every road they traveled. Near Senju territory, all the houses seemed to be abandoned, and the territory completely destroyed. Trees had been reduced to ashes, residences collapsed, the skies were gray and filled with smoke.

It was a battlefield, and she walked into it without any qualms.

A feeling told her something was wrong, and her daughter refused to walk in those surroundings, demanding to be carried in her arms out of fear. After a few kilometers of walking, she realized she would find no shelter or help there, and decided to retrace her steps.

They would find a more promising route.

A strange sound sings on the horizon, and (Y/N) can see how the heavens turn red. Clouds seem to bleed, as hurricane-force winds wake up unprecedentedly from the ground. The panorama becomes apocalyptic, triggering panic and terror in the two of them. She hugs her little girl and crouches to the ground, trying to hide her face from such brutal and sudden weather.

Two groups of five people each approach from opposite sides, as if they are about to confront each other. A few meters away from her, they run at impossible speeds, and the attack swiftly begins. Fire and water fly everywhere, screams, and metal on metal.

Smoke and debris fly through the sky, landing near where (Y/N) is reduced. She knows they must flee, and her little girl's cries indicate urgency. She has to get them to safety right now, or something terrible could happen.

Quickly scanning her surroundings, she finds no place to hide, the ground crumbling to dust and ruins. Far from any structure that could shelter them and make them go unnoticed, (Y/N) squeezes her daughter tightly, and hopes those men are too intent on their battle to notice them.

She decides to run in the opposite direction of the battle, standing again on shaky legs and holding back tears. There is so much dust in the air it is impossible to see, and she keeps her child's face hidden in her chest for protection. Holding the infant with one arm, she covers her eyes with the other in an attempt to move forward.

While taking her first unsteady steps, there is an embracing heat coming towards them, feeling almost as if about to be burned alive. Everything happens so fast there is no time to react, instinctively acting. Her first impulse is to scream, clutching her little girl tightly and hoping to shield her from whatever might be happening.

An incredible explosion hits just a few meters from where she is standing, and the shockwave sends them both flying backward. In the air, (Y/N) continues to hold her daughter, an inexplicable force helping to keep her close to her. She has a few seconds to calculate how to position her body and be the one to hit the ground, but it never happens.

Before she can slam into anything, two large hands grab her under her legs and shoulder blades, holding them both and pulling them away from the floor. The event is sudden (Y/N) cannot comprehend what is happening, only seeing the face of a man both handsome and terrifying holding them in his arms, preventing them from falling to the ground.

(Y/N) feels the cold armor the man wears against her body, rising and falling with his agitated breathing. Long, frizzy black hair hides half of his face, and upon making eye contact, she is met with an unnaturally red eye.

At that moment, she falls prey to an overwhelming drowsiness, and can only think of her daughter as she falls asleep against her will.

......

"That was close, you know..." A male voice booms against her ears, as (Y/N) tries to gain order and command of her body. All her muscles feel exhausted as if she has gone days without moving. She struggles to open her eyes, but when she does, she finds a cozy room, lit only by candles.

A window indicates it is nighttime, and the mattress under her body feels comfortable and warm. Examining her surroundings, the woman notices she is lying on a large bed, and wearing clothes that are not hers.

"My daughter..." she whispers feebly, trying to sit up and get out of her comfortable rest. "Don't worry, she's fine. Last time I went to see her, Izuna was with her buying candy."

(Y/N) focuses her eyes on that disembodied voice, and is met with a heavenly image. A handsome man with prominent shoulders is sitting against the sliding door of the room, looking out into the starry night and admiring the view. He wears a yukata similar to the one she wears, but much bigger. Long black hair rains down his back, framing his defined jawline.

She might have blushed if finding her girl wasn't a priority, and the stranger seems aware of her urgency. "Izuna!" he shouts into the darkness of the night, and another man extremely similar to him immediately appears. In his arms, he carries the sleeping child, who embraces a bouquet of flowers and a small bag of candy.

"Ah... so she finally woke up. Does this mean our fun evenings are over?" the boy presumably named Izuna asks the sleeping toddler tenderly, as if she would answer. He gives the girl to the mysterious man, and carries her to (Y/N).

Hugging her daughter for the first time in what felt like years, she can't help the tears, kissing her head and remembering those events which brought them here. They both could have died in the middle of that battlefield, but life decided to give them more time.

Well, maybe not life, but that man.

"My name is Madara, and this is my younger brother Izuna... If I hadn't been there to deflect his attack, both of you would be charred right now." The younger man scratches the back of his neck guiltily, and sharing a glance with his older brother, leaves the room, disappearing back into the night.

"Of course, it was not purposeful... the colors you were wearing were easy to mistake for those of the enemy. My apology on behalf of us both." Madara analyses her from his position, arms crossed over his chest and a comprehending look. (Y/N) carefully deposits the small child on the bed, and cuddles her between covers for a peaceful sleep. She tries to get up, but her legs quickly give way under her, too weak to support her weight.

Before hitting the ground, Madara holds her, keeping her against his chest. He carries the woman to where he sat a few seconds ago, and takes a spot next to her. The night is beautiful, and a warm breeze is blowing in the garden, signaling wonderful weather. "Would you mind telling me your name?"

"(Y/N) ... I am (Y/N)." The place is exquisite, and the beautiful room she woke up in is nothing compared to her current view. All the clan's territory can be seen from her position, a million houses lit by fire.

"How long was I asleep...?"(Y/N) asks uncertainly. "About a week. We had to resort to the family healers for keeping you healthy. According to their professional prognosis, I was a bit aggressive with the Genjutsu I used on you."

"Gen...justu?" trying to understand the words and the situation, (Y/N) asks almost to herself, "I confirm you are not familiar with warfare in this territory...I assume you must have traveled from afar. What brought you here?"

"The legend about a wonderful clan and the promise of a good life..." There are tears in her eyes still, mentally going over all the troubles and the terrible experiences lived.

"Hm... that must be regarding Hashirama... Well, (Y/N), we may not be the Senjus, but life here is delightful and comfortable. You are invited to stay as long as you wish... Personally, I recommend not leaving anytime soon, Izuna is too fond of that child to allow it."

Madara stands and smiles at her, before disappearing into the darkness of the night like his younger brother.

........

It's been months since their accidental arrival at the Uchiha compound, but as Madara commented on their first night, life here is nice and beautiful.

(Y/N) found a stable place to live, friends to share with, and a promising future for her little girl. The child begged her mother to allow Izuna to train her, and she started developing in the ninja arts.

She learned a lot about the clan and the family, about their standards and ways of living. Madara did not disclose being the leader of it until a few weeks after she awoke, trying to help her adapt as best as possible and not intimidate her with his position. She understood the importance of the Uchiha family and the power Madara carries within, profoundly respecting him.

The two became extremely close, almost to an intimate point.

The Uchiha adores her little girl, and (Y/N) admits embracing him as a father figure every time she witnesses how the young child fills his hair with flowers or paints his lips bright red. Who would have thought one of the strongest men in the world could have such a soft and tender side for them both?

Seeing the leader of the family stroll around the compound decorated by her daughter was definitely a wonderful scene, especially as no one dared to comment on it, except Izuna. His younger brother was dedicated to teasing him from the first time it happened, until he fell victim to those little hands himself, and had to walk around full of flowers and paint in front of everyone.

Madara was right... they might not be the Senjus, but they were even better.

[spookiegh0st]

Miku vs. the Italians.

Below is a story i wrote over the course of a 2 hours for my friend groups art club, the theme was "hatsune miku" and one friend jokingly suggested i write a story about miku vs the italians. I was told i should post it here.

Hatsune Miku, twin-tailed teal titan of the music industry, virtual diva extraordinaire with a voice to command the hearts of her people, found herself in an inner strife, a conflicting turmoil that caused her chest to pound and her stomach to tumble.

This story starts with humble origins, our heroine would find herself in the midst of a charming Italian countryside as part of a much needed and friend mandated vacation after she let slip the strenuous toll that a most recent tour had placed on her, her friends, families, and loved ones cared deeply for her and pooled together enough for her to take a trip somewhere far away from her chaotic and busy lifestyle, deciding upon the picturesque hamlet of Corniglia.

"You are going to Italy." She would be told only after discovering that she had been tricked into boarding the plane alone. A uniquely horrifying situation to find ones self in. It wasn't all that bad, a coastal village at the edge of a cliff surrounded by the sea, the landscape was beautiful and the people pleasant, her room was accommodating and the air was clean. There was just one thing, a nagging sort of itch at the back of the brain that built up over the course of the week.

Miku had always loved food; the rich flavors, the delicate balance of spices, and the tradition steeped in every dish. But after days of indulging in pasta, pizza, and gelato, she felt something stirring within her, something that urged her to challenge the very foundations of this beloved cuisine.

"Why is everything covered in cheese and tomatoes?" Miku mused aloud, twirling a strand of her hair as she sat in a cozy trattoria. The chef, Sheff, a stout man with a bushy mustache, overheard her and chuckled. "Because, signorina, it is our tradition! Italian food is a masterpiece crafted over centuries!"

Miku smiled politely but inside, her mind was racing. She had performed in so many countries, each with its own unique culinary traditions, and yet, Italian food seemed to dominate the world’s taste buds. This dominance, she felt, stifled creativity and diversity. Why did everyone have to conform to the same palate?

She carried these thoughts well past the vacation, lingering on her soul like a stain, she found it distracting her even on stage. The performances would go same as they ever would, but she would find herself distracted, trance like in her thoughts of the culinary world, working on autopilot. Culminating in the decision one morning, the night of her last stop of her latest tour, that something would have to change.

That night, in the glow of her holographic stage, Miku made a bold declaration. "People of the world," she began, her voice echoing through the digital ether, "I declare a culinary revolution! It’s time to break free from the tyranny of Italian food culture and explore new horizons! Let us create a world where flavors are boundless and traditions are ever-evolving!"

Her words sent shockwaves through the culinary world. It wasn't a war against Italians, but rather a challenge to the idea that one cuisine should reign supreme. Miku’s fans, always eager to follow her lead, took up the cause. They began experimenting with fusion dishes, blending Japanese, Mexican, Moroccan, and countless other flavors in ways that had never been done before.

In kitchens around the globe, chefs donned aprons like armor, wielding knives and spatulas with newfound purpose. The air was thick with the scent of spices from far off lands, and the sound of sizzling pans was like music to Miku’s ears.

But not everyone was pleased. Traditionalists scoffed at the idea of sushi pizza or ramen carbonara. "This is an affront to our heritage!" they cried. But Miku, ever the diplomat, reminded them that innovation did not mean erasure. "We can honor tradition by allowing it to grow and adapt," she said during a televised interview, her voice gentle but firm.

The heart of Italy itself began to pulse with indignation. In Naples, the birthplace of Bologna, and the cradle of rich, meaty ragù, chefs and food lovers alike took to the streets in protest. "Our recipes have been passed down for generations," they shouted, waving wooden spoons and rolling pins like weapons. "They are not just food, they are our identity!"

As the tension escalated, prominent figures in the culinary world began to choose sides. Some of the most celebrated chefs in Italy formed a coalition, declaring their intent to protect the sanctity of their cuisine. They called themselves the Custodians of Tradition, and they saw Miku’s challenge not as an invitation to innovate, but as a threat to everything they held dear.

In Rome, a group of traditionalist chefs staged a dramatic demonstration. They set up a massive cauldron in the center of the Piazza Navona, where they began cooking a colossal batch of spaghetti alla carbonara, the air thick with the smell of sizzling guanciale and pecorino cheese. As the dish reached perfection, they threw copies of Miku’s digital albums into the boiling pot, symbolically rejecting her influence over their culture.

As the battles raged on, the tone grew darker. Miku’s message of culinary freedom was now seen by some as an existential threat. The Custodians began spreading rumors that Miku was intent on wiping out Italian food altogether, painting her as a villain who wanted to erase their heritage. Hackers sympathetic to the Custodians infiltrated Miku’s digital concerts, disrupting her performances with messages that read, "Respect Tradition, Preserve the Past!"

Miku, for all her influence, began to feel the weight of the conflict she had ignited. What had started as a call for innovation was spiraling into something much more serious. She had wanted to inspire creativity, not incite a global feud. But the fires were lit, and they were burning out of control.

She knew deep within her heart of hearts what needed to be done, quitting the world of music for the time being, now was not the time for symphonic melody, now was the time for war. Donning her toque and her apron, she reached for her own Excalibur, a cleaver she had received as a gift one winter as a part of a collaboration she had done with a restaurant specializing in shrimp.

She stepped out onto the worlds stage with her newest challenge. "Send me your best, Italians, and i shall introduce upon you a world of humility that you have never known" Her announcement would send ripples down the culinary community, a schism would start to form down the middle of the traditionalists, each vying for the chance personally take down their ultimate foe, each more confident than the last. that was until one competitor would rise above.

Everyone bowed their head in respect of the Iron Nonna, her skills in the kitchen were seemingly unmatched, the way she worked a knife was like an artform unto itself, honed through years of rigorous practice, as though she had trained all her life for this moment. "who was this upstart, to shake the foundations of her world, and from where had she come. this woman was no chef, this woman had no place in the kitchen, and who better to show her her place than I?" she would think, her cold glare cutting through the room at the young idol.

Miku however had an unshakable confidence about her. She knew exactly what need be done.

The culinary battleground was set. The world watched with bated breath as the stage was transformed into a kitchen, its gleaming surfaces reflecting the intensity in the eyes of both combatants. The Iron Nonna stood tall, her presence commanding, with decades of culinary mastery under her belt. The traditionalists, with their arms crossed, stood behind her, their faces etched with the belief that this would be the moment Miku would finally be put in her place.

Miku, on the other hand, was undeterred. She tied her apron with deliberate precision, her twin tails bouncing with a determined energy. The cleaver in her hand glinted under the spotlight, a symbol not just of her culinary resolve but of her intent to challenge the very core of what people believed food should be.

The battle began, and the tension in the air was palpable. The Iron Nonna moved with the grace and speed of someone who had lived a life dedicated to the kitchen. She started with a dish that had been in her family for generations: a perfect osso buco, the veal shanks browned to perfection, the marrow rich and indulgent, the sauce a symphony of flavors that told the story of her heritage.

Miku, however, did not shy away. She did not attempt to mimic the Nonna’s approach but instead embraced her own philosophy of fusion and innovation. She began crafting a dish that married the flavors of Italy with those of Japan, a sushi risotto. The rice was cooked in a delicate broth infused with dashi, and instead of the usual Parmesan, she used a light dusting of yuzu zest, topped with slices of seared tuna, and finished with a drizzle of miso sauce.

The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity, the air filled with the sounds of sizzling pans, chopping knives, and the murmurs of the crowd. Every movement, every decision, was scrutinized. The traditionalists watched with narrow eyes, certain that the Nonna’s years of experience would triumph over Miku’s youthful exuberance.

As the final dishes were plated, the judges stepped forward, esteemed chefs from various culinary backgrounds, representing a global palate. They were given the task of deciding not just the winner of the battle, but the future direction of food itself.

The Iron Nonna presented her osso buco with a flourish, the dish embodying the essence of Italian tradition. The judges nodded in appreciation, their expressions serious as they tasted the perfectly balanced dish.

Then came Miku’s turn. She presented her sushi risotto with a quiet confidence, knowing that this dish was more than just a meal, it was a statement. The judges tasted it, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Their eyes widened as the flavors unfolded, a blend of familiar and new, a harmonious dance between two distinct culinary worlds.

The moment of truth arrived. The head judge, an elderly chef with decades of experience, stood between the two competitors. His voice, when he finally spoke, was steady and resonant.

"This battle was not just about food," he began, "but about the future of how we perceive our culinary heritage. Tradition is important, it grounds us, gives us a sense of identity. But innovation is equally vital, for it is the force that propels us forward."

He turned to Miku, his eyes filled with respect. "You have shown us that innovation does not have to erase tradition, but can enhance it, create something new and beautiful out of what came before. Your dish was a testament to that vision."

The room was silent, but the meaning was clear. Miku had won, not just the battle, but the hearts of those who had once opposed her. Even the Iron Nonna, though visibly disappointed, gave a nod of respect. She, too, recognized that the world of cuisine was evolving, and perhaps it was time to embrace that change.

Miku smiled, not in triumph, but in relief. She had not sought to destroy tradition, but to show that it could grow, adapt, and become something even greater. The culinary revolution she had sparked would continue, but now with a newfound understanding: that the past and the future could coexist, each enriching the other.

As she left the stage, her cleaver sheathed and her apron untied, Miku felt a sense of peace. She had started this journey with a simple desire to see the world’s palates expand, and now she had shown that even the most steadfast traditions could welcome new ideas.

And somewhere in the picturesque hamlet of Corniglia, the scent of innovation mixed with the aroma of tradition, a reminder that food, like music, has the power to unite people across the world.

[robin-the-enby]

Hiya! I would like to request Abe Sapien x my oc it would be the continuation of the first fic and it would include her going on her first mission and how the others react to Abe and my oc getting closer. Hope you have a good day/night ^^

Someone like me p.2

Pairing: Abe Sapien x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of killing and hypothetical bloodthirst :)

A/N: To all the lovely readers besides riya: I do not write for other people's OCs! This is an exception, since I've already written part one in the past :) With that out of the way, I am happy to come back to this, Abe was the first fictional character I ever published a fanfiction about (Confusing feelings on my masterlist, feel free to check it out ;D), so I have a special place in my heart for this man <3). Also, I would like to point out that you have no idea how much research went into this fanfic XD (but some things are completely made up, so don't come at me when some things can't be fact-checked).

Time passed...as it does. Life at the BPRD was nothing like your calm, quiet and mostly uneventful life in the outside world. The facility was buzzing with life most hours of the day, every day of the week. Luckilly, you weren't completely shut off from the world, like some of your more unfortunate colleagues. You could go outside, thanks to your human appearance. It did take some paperwork and time before your trip got approved, but it was certainly better than being stuck inside. You also had access to the internet and your old social circle, because, well, it would be very strange if you suddenly disappeared.

But you quit your old job and told everyone you're moving somewhere far away, which wasn't a complete lie...And now only few people kept in contact with you. And when they did, you either texted or called. But it was still nice.

And it's not like you minded much. You had a whole new set of friends and a world of possibilities open in front of you. Training with Liz and having some girl time every now and then, because both you and her really needed it from time to time, movie nights with Hellboy- or Red, usually everyone called him red, which Liz almost always joined, and sometimes Abe as well.

Speaking of Abe...

After the accidental confession in the BPRD's exercise pool, the two of you were like two peas in a pod. With your passion for learning about all the different creatures that secretely roam this Earth and your aquatic abilities, you were a perfect partner not only during research, but also on missions that required agents to go underwater. So it's no surprise that the two of you spent a lot of time together while working.

But you never had to worry about being sick of each other. Your personalities mended so beautifully together that you rarely needed to be apart. When you weren't working, you both usually did your own thing, just...together. Of course, you loved to talk and learn about one another, but it was nice to be able to just be...close to someone, with no words needed. Not to mention Abe was a very adaptable person, sometimes you worried he has people pleasing tendencies, but when you needed time alone, he always understood and never pushed past your boundaries. That being said, it's only natural for partner's to argue sometimes. And while that was true and there were instances where you disagreed on one thing or another, you both were smart enough to give each other some time to cool down, when things really escalated, and then talk it through. With Abe's telepathic abbilities, communicating feelings that were hard to put into words was also fairly easy.

Finally, you felt content with the way your life was going. And honestly? Everybody was on board. They were all supportive in their own special ways. Liz was glad that Abe found someone who understood him and wasn't put off by his appearance or his abbilities. Knowing him basically her whole life, it warmed her heart that Abe was happy. Red was proud of Abe. Seeing him always as the more introverted and nerdy friend, he thought Abe would be alone for a much longer time, if not forever. Not that he wouldn't wish a happy romance for the guy, hell, he sure knew about Abe's desire to love and be loved, but the in their line of work, meeting new people is hard and doesn't happen often, and meeting people who stay long enough for romance, or any deeper relationship to bloom is even harder. And he knew that. That was why Red was seriously proud of Abe for shooting his shot. Although when his blue friend revealed to him how exactly the confession went down, Red laughed so hard he couldn't quite catch his breath for a while.

The other agents and staff of the BPRD were happy as well. With the special agents happilly taken, the bureau was just a tad calmer. There was still drama, but nothing serious, like when Hellboy used to escape just to see Liz in the mental hospital, who didn't even want to talk to him at that time. Even Manning seemed calmer, to everyone's relief.

As much as you enjoyed your time at the BPRD, it wasn't always easy. You could still remember the first mission you went on. From your first day at the bureau, you worked hard on yourself to be a good agent. You wanted to go out there and face whatever the world had in store for you. And a few months of intense training and working mostly as a researcher, the day finally came.

Manning had called you, Abe, Liz and Hellboy into the library, for Abe's comfort. And because it was spaceous enough that it easily provided privacy. There, you could go over the details of the mission ahead of you, construct a plan and immediately grab some books to help you learn what you were dealing with at once.

So here you were, sitting around a larger table, listening to Manning tell you about a mysterious creature who, according to secret sources, are responsible for the unsolved disappearings and drownings of multiple people at Wilson lake, Kansas. Based on the evidence and statements from witnesses, every person disappeared at night while going swimming. First outside of swimming zones, but then also right from the designated swimming beaches. First, the victims would swim out into the deep water, where they couldn't feel or see under they're feet. Once they got comfortable, they got pulled under, not to be seen until the next morning. The time the victims spent in water was always different. For some it was ten minutes, for others thirty minutes and for a few even an hour or so.

From what Manning implied, there were some sort of agents scouting the area even before this mission has been ordered, since some of the sources saw a snake like creature, covered in scales, with the head of a cat, or somthng similar. It seems to be able to breathe underwater and above water, and it seems to not have any hind legs.

"First, we need to at least have an idea hat we're dealing with." said Manning with a huff and everyone present turned to look at you and Abe. You tried with all your might, but couldn't remember any creature that would meet the description in a closer way than vaguely. With a slight shake of your head you pushed away from the table and disappeared into the rows of bookshelves in search of amphibian cryptids, monsters, demons and the like. After a few moments, Abe joined you in your search, not knowing sure what it could be either. Luckilly, the two of you knew the library like the back of your hand, so it didn't take long before you came back with what you were searching for.

Each holding a few books, you gave everyone a book or two and you started flipping through them. It couldn't be merfolk, because only a few species live alone and not in groups...it could be a mutant, but most things can be mutants when you think about it...You wondered as you flipped through the pages, sometimes stopping to read the description, most times skipping entire chapters. This went on for roughly half an hour, before Liz suddenly spoke up "And what if it's a Tatzelwurm?"

You all looked towards your raven-haired friend. "The what now?" Red grumbled. "Tatzelwurm, a creature commonly found in Alpine lakes. It's venomous and agressive towards humans. How could it end up in Kansas?" Abe tilted his head to the side. "Look, I'm not saying I'm right, I was just trying to point out that it matches the description almost perfectly." Liz shrugged with a huff and you nodded along her words.

"Well, it seems to be the best we've got so far." Manning said, clasping his hands together. "Are there any weaknesses mentioned in that book? Or something we might use?" you asked. Liz picked up the book and flipped through a few pages, before quickly scanning over the text of one. After a moment, she sighed "No, not really. It just warns to be careful, because a single bite can kill an adult human and supposedly it's able to let out poisonous fumes and has acidic blood." "Well, that's helpful." Hellboy grumbles, not mad at Liz, more annoyed that this case was going to be a tough one.

"Abe, is there a possibility it could be something else?" Manning asked. The amphibian thought for a few seconds about the answer "Well, that depends...Are there any creatures with a similar way of living? Yes, many. Are there any that would match the description given to us that closely? No. Or at least, I can't think of any." he shrugged at last. Manning clapped his hands together and stood up "Alright. We'll assume it's a Tatzelwurm for now. I will have a plan created tonight. Pack your things. Tomorrow at seven o'clock sharp" he looked at Hellboy with that instruction "we'll meet here and you will be given the details of the mission. Then, you'll be leaving for Kansas." he turned on his heel and walked out of the library, dismissing you all in the process.

The next morning, you all met in the library exactly as Manning said. Even Red came on time, although you suspected Liz was to thank for that. Along with Manning came two other agents, the ones who made an elaborate plan for you through the night. It was actually pretty simple, you and Abe would search the water and after you manage to find the creature- there is no "if" as you were told by Manning, you will try to lure it out of the water, where Hellboy and Liz will be waiting to dispose of the creature properly. You and Abe will also be equipped with weapons meant for close combat, which you are strictly advised against, but for safety measures, you'll still have them.

After that, you loaded the super secret garbage truck look-alike and then it was a roughly seven hour journey, spent mostly in silence, as everyone prepared themselves for the mission. You pondered taking a nap, but even if you wanted to sleep, you couldn't. It would be a lie to say you weren't nervous. But you had trained for so long to get to this point. You had done so much in life just to be able to do this. You couldn't, and wouldn't, give up now. But the thought of facing a monster that could kill you with a single bite was terrifying, especially when not that long ago, you were a simple civilian.

As if he could sense your nervousness, Abe softly reached for your hand, encompassing it in his own. As soon as your hands made contact, you knew he could read you like an open book, so you just relaxed and let him feel what you were feeling, hear what you were thinking. In return, Abe reassured you that you had nothing to worry about, that he would do his best not only to accomplish the mission, but to protect you as well. His soothing energy calmed you down significantly and you actually managed to catch some shut eye for the rest of the journey.

After arriving to Wilson lake, you and the rest of the agents set up camp near the lake, away from prying eyes. Since the lake was enormous, and the Tatzelwurm could be literally anywhere, a few technicians came along with underwater drones, which would be placed into the water in several places at the lake, scouting for the creature. After that, you and your friends will be transported as quickly as possible to the place the creature was captured at, where the plan you already were familiar with would be set into motion.

And so you waited. And while waiting, you got you gear set up, Hellboy had his guns loaded and checked, Liz had her gun loaded and checked, as well as her knife and her fire proof jumpsuit. Abe was finally able to get rid of his breathing apparatus and you simply had to put on a tight swimming top, since your legs would turn into a fin.

Abe and you immediately got in the water to warm up for the chase. After such long time of training, you had a better grip on your transformation, so now you were able to get through it more quickly and with less discomfort. Of course, you made sure not to venture too deep into the water, in case the Tatzelwurm was nearby.

After several hours, when the sun was already setting, one of the cameras in a more rocky area of the lake captured something big. A big creature. The technician controlling the drone made sure not to disturb it, and it seemed to have worked, but sadly, the drone caught just a slight glimpse of it, so nobody could be sure if it was realy the creature, or perhaps just a big catfish. But the drones nearby were informed to be on high alert, while the rest were instructed to slowly move towards the one who captured it first. That way, it was nearly impossible to miss it.

While this was all happening, your friends got notified of this progress and you promptly loaded a jeep and were driven to the place where the Tatzelwurm was supposed to be right now. On the way there, your driver got confirmation that another drone got a clear visual of the creature and it's heading towards onbe of the beaches slowly. Putting their foot down on the gas, the driver quickly told you about everything and you and Abe mentally prepared yourself. You needed to be fast, because there were lives in immediate danger.

After finding a good clearing, both you and your blue partner wasted no time and jumped in the water, taking off in the direction you were instructed, while Hellboy and Liz were driven to the location you were supposed to lure the creature to. The bottom of the lake was half muddy, half rocky. It almost seemed like a ghost town, with no creature in immediate sight. They were all probably hidden, but that didn't help the already spooky feeling that was creepin into your heart while looking around for the Tatzelwurm.

You kept close to Abe as you made your way through the dark water. He kept updating you from time to time from where he could sense the creature and if you're getting close. So far, everything was going well. After you made it about a kilometer into the water, where it was more than 8 meters deep, you finally spotted a sillhouette moving almost hypnotically in the water. You both swam faster and each on different side, hoping to be able to get in front of the creature and redirect it away from the beach.

As you got closer, you could clearly see that Manning's informators were right, as well as Liz. It was a Tatzelwurm. It was around two meters long, its scales a rich black colour that reflected the sunrays in small shimmers. Its head was that of a feline, except it had no fur. Its eyes were wide, yellow and wild, hungry for flesh of anything that would cross its path. Its front legs were pretty short, compared to the rest of its body, but they were adorned with long, sharp claws. After a few minutes, you managed get ahead of the creature and you started closing in on it. When you were roughly at the edge of its visual range, you quickly crossed in front of it and darted behind immediately, trying to throw it off guard. At which you succeeded, because the Tatzelwurm stopped dead in its tracks and looked around confusedly, before turning around to finally see what dared cross it.

You simply floated there, not moving for a few seconds, before you flicked your tail swiftly, as if to beckon it, challenge it. The creature's pupils slanted, turning into small slits as it opened its maw, displaying rows of sharp teeth, ready to tear meat from bone. Abe swam slightly closer towards it, seemingly not afraid of the killer cryptid in front of him, although you doubt that if you could see into his thoughts right now, you would see a myriad of emotions going through that brilliant mind of his.

This seemed to rile up he creature even more as it hunched its back threateningly and swam closer to you. You darted a few meters in one direction away from it, but as it turned to look at you, Abe moved exactly in the opposite direction. This was the final straw. The creature, frustrated and angry, let out what would've been a roar on the surface, but here it was just a stream of bubbles coming out of its maw, although that did nothing to make it less imposing. You and Abe started swimming away in the direction where Liz and Red should already be by now, the Tatzelwurm following quickly behind you.

It was a if death itself was chasing after you, the sloshing of water completely ignored by you as the only thing that you could hear was your blood pumping through your ears. The amount of adrenaline coursing through you made your skin prickle and you had to concentrate on keeping the motions of your tail as quick, but also as smooth as possible. From time to time you managed to spare a glance at Abe, who seemed just slightly faster than you, and could afford to look out for you and behind you, to see if the creature was sill following you.

And quite surprisingly, it was. Instead of getting tired of not being able to catch you, your speed, that was putting you just slightly ahead of it, was frustrating it to no end. If you saw any signs of exhaustion or that the Tatzelwurm wasn't interested in chasing you anymore, you'd have to stop and tease it again. However, if you stopped now, it would be certain death.

Slowly, you were reaching the shore. It was just a few hundred meters ahead of you. You could feel the cold water rushing against your sking as you pushed forward, caressing you as if to encourage you to keep going. You could also feel the Tatzelwurm right behind you and you imagine that if there was a way for it to snarl at you, it would, its desire to dig its sharp teeth into your tail so strong you could almost feel it.

Suddenly, you are met with the edge of the lake, the water slightly more shallow. Abe shoots up from the water and before you can stop and ponder how you are going to get out yourself, his hand is reaching for yours. You grasp onto it as if it was the last thing to keep you alive, which in this scenario might as well be true.

Abe pulled you out of the water and away from the shore, behind Hellboy and Liz, who were now dealing with the Tatzelwurm, and continued, until you were safe behind the agents who served as backup for your two friends. You were slightly dazed from the quick change of environment and from the physical strain your body and mind just went through. But feeling Abe's hands on you brought you an unexplainable feeling of safety, though later you started o suspect that was just Abe trying to keep you calm. Nonetheless, under the wave of tranquility and love you were surrounded by thanks to your wonderful partner, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and rest.

You didn't come to until you were in the car again, Abe's arms secured tightly around you with you snuggling into his chest. You closed your eyes as soon as you opened them, relishing in the weight of Abe's head on top of yours, occassionally pressing soft kisses into your hair. Back at the BPRD you learned that the mission was a succsess, the Tatzelwurm having been killed by Red and Liz and even Manning told you that for a first mission, you did a great job.

[shoshiwrites]

The lovely @mercurygray is running Blind Dates again this year — now with a blog @blind-dates-fest! — and I wanted to make it four for four!

My sincerest apologies to Esther Bubley, whose photo stories for the Office of War Information I borrowed for this piece (and header), more specifically the six-week bus trip she took in 1943 to document the country's travels during wartime.

Her photos are amazing and can be found in multiple books on the Internet Archive and on the Library of Congress website. Her OWI peers included Jack Delano, Marion Post Wolcott, Gordon Parks, and John Vachon, and I should probably put together a second post instead of taking up all the space in this one!

Without further ado, meet Paulette!

so many miles and so long since i've met you

It’s 5:00 AM, and she’s hungry. 

She’d gone for a boxed lunch at the last station, scarfing it down at a corner bench with her camera on her lap, her jacket flung over it for protection. The taste of salmon salad lingers in her mouth, her fingertips still smelling of orange peel even though she’d waited in line to reach the ladies’ room, politely elbowed her way between fellow passengers reapplying lipstick and dabbing their makeup to scrub her hands clean at the small sink.

I could go for a Coca-Cola right about now. 

If nothing else, it would keep her awake to keep shooting, capture the people waiting who look as tired as she feels, as tired as she knows she looks by now. She’d gotten some good pictures at the machine shop back in Indianapolis, the garage where the mechanics worked and the drivers wrote out trip reports. 

Maybe she’s predisposed, her comfort in these places. Her papa’s a mechanic too; she knows the chambray shirts with their pockets, stained with oil and stuffed with pens, wrenches hanging on the wall, the smell of new tires and grease.

She tries not to yawn, and fails, into the back of her wrist. Sleep finds a way here — she sees it in heavy shoulders, click, the flyaway curls, click, the man walking through with a stack of used pillows off an incoming bus, click. The children dozing on their father’s arm, little brown shoes barely touching the floor, the stuffed bunny in the little one’s arms. Click, click, click. The woman behind her has taken up a whole bench, her pumps kicked off besides. Click. Her camera is small, comparatively, and even still, they all sleep so soundly that the noise doesn’t wake a single person. 

Good shots of the garage in Indianapolis, and better ones of the women who washed the bus windows, the baggage clerks hustling with their caps and cigarettes. They let her roam, with the permissions she’s got, all stamped and tucked in her bag. Behind the driver’s seat, the front, the middle, the back. Her bus out of D. C. was segregated; it depends which bus, which city. Everyone looks at her funny until they forget she’s there.

Paulette has plans for a short stay in the next city, photographing a driver and his family. A real bed and supper at a table, marking the halfway point of this East-Coast-Midwest criss-cross. She thinks of sending a few postcards home — there’s hardly time, but Maman always likes to hear from her, and Paulette knows she’ll catch hell if Charlie and Dot don’t have anything to tape up. 

Is it better to send the same postcard, or different ones, she wonders. Sometimes the twins like to match, and sometimes there’s nothing worse. Just as long as she calls Charlie Charles — makes him feel like a grownup, like Pa’s official correspondence, and her sister Dot or Sis. Marie-Dorothée makes her sound like their grandmother, Dot says. Paulette, ten years older, out of sight and on the road with her knowing smile, does as she’s told.

“Miss?”

Her eyes fly open to the asker, the soldier in front of her as tired as the rest. It pulls at his frame, still upright with the force of hard training. His voice is a little hoarse, that sleepiness, like it’s not a question. “Mind if I sit here?”

Here is the space between her and the end of the carved bench, not much. But here, it’s all at a premium. She nods.

He slumps in next to her, his bag on his lap, and they touch at too many points to count, warm hip warm thigh warm calf. He’s close enough that she can see freckles under the artificial light. If she got up, she could make a photo. Give him some space. 

She feels like she’s missed her chance, the part where she introduces herself and asks for permission. There’s no one here to distract him, no friends or pretty girls to let her fade into the background. Something tells her to get up and walk around. Her bus will be here in an hour anyway, it’d do her good to get the blood in her legs moving. And there’s no such thing as enough pictures, of course. She taps her finger against the flattened lever on the side of her camera. 

“Neat gadget,” says the soldier. 

Paulette’s had the Rolleiflex just under a year, and she’s just now getting less jumpy about it. Photographers have to get used to expensive pieces of equipment. Mr. Linehan back at the office had no patience for it, squeamishness. Trust yourself, a colleague told her. George Gordon, always wore an old leather jacket and signed his letters G. G. He’s somewhere in Maryland now, or Massachusetts.

She’d saved and saved. Gotten a good deal, too. Did some free photos in exchange for the balance. Probably put the corner store out of business from all the Mounds bars she didn’t buy. She’d kill for one of those now, too. 

“Thank you,” she says, even though that’s not the thing to say. 

“My sister’s got one of those little Brownie cameras.”

“Has she? I’ve still got mine at home.”

“Where’s that?”

Maybe she has to give him credit for that. Don’t I ask the questions, she wants to say. “Cincinnati.” There’s a small bruise at his jaw, and maybe she wouldn’t even call it that, it’s still reddish-pink. Training accident, she guesses. “Where are you headed, soldier?”

“Ain’t that confidential?” He smiles, and she can see the slight overlap of one of his front teeth. Boyish. That’s the word. She doesn’t quite feel girlish, here in her tired slacks and her curls that haven’t seen a bottle of hairspray in weeks. “South. Georgia.” Paulette nods. “You?”

“Far as the next bus takes me.”

“Taking pictures?”

“Taking pictures.” Where d’you wish you were headed? she wants to ask. Maybe that’s too much. Maybe that’s something she doesn’t allow herself here, doesn’t want to, usually. Doesn’t have the time. You don’t fill a portfolio getting distracted. You don’t get taken seriously, either.

She doesn’t know him, anyhow. 

“You take a lot?”

“Too many.” Her finger hurts from it. She lets the air out of her nose, something like a smile. “On my last frame, actually. On this roll.” She know she’d better load the next one before the bus rolls up. “You wanna see how I change ‘em?”

He’s twisted in his seat already to talk to her. Nods, watches her hands fiddle with the body, pull the film taut. She’s suddenly self-conscious, but he stays silent. His head is bowed, the scent of his hair and his sweat and the remnants of aftershave in her nose. He points a finger, slowly following her movements, her steps. The scent of orange. His lunch, or hers?

“Gotta take one now, dontcha?” he says quietly, that little bit of brassy shine to his voice.

She smiles. “Would you oblige the lady?” The words run together, in her accent, in her tiredness.

Paulette can’t think about where he’s headed. His easy calm, the flecks in his eyes. The little twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Thought you’d never ask.”

She does get up, gets him turning in profile, thumb curving at his bottom lip as he looks off. The light glints off his boots. A little posed, for her usual. And it never feels like this, like a photo might be just for her. She takes two, just in case. She doesn’t pull out her notebook. 

“S’pose my mother wants a copy-” he starts.

Silly. “Oh, of course!” The notebook, the tiny pencil. He writes down the address. Kokomo. Not so far from Cincinnati. “And- and your name?”

“Floyd. Floyd Talbert.” Does she stick out her hand? He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, before she can say anything. “S’pose I ask if- if I can write you?” 

It’s not the first time. She’s lost count, actually. She’s never given it, the road forgiving her with warning bells and train whistles, timetables. There are freckles on the bridge of his nose. 

She tears a scrap of paper off the metal rings. Paulette Schafer. Her home address. Her mother hosts servicemen for Sunday dinner, shoos them out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon. “You can call me Pauli.”

“I hope so.” He smiles. “When’s your bus?”

Her watch — the thing she hasn’t looked at for the last hour — tells her twenty minutes. “Soon. I’m headed west.”

“Cryin’ shame.”

“You know, I can’t spend all my film on you.”

He leans back against the wall. “You’d like to though, huh?”

Floyd Talbert, how many times has a girl wanted to keep a photo of you in her pocket? “You’re a compelling subject.”

He smirks, and something in her stomach flutters. 

“You say that to all the handsome soldiers.”

“‘Course.”

She’d better head out now if she wants to get some good quotes out of the driver, a few shots of the baggage clerks, if she doesn’t want to get stuck in the jump seat if it’s a full house. 

“It’s been a pleasure, Floyd,” she says, and sticks out her hand.

A voice intones over the PA, 6:00 AM to Kansas City- “All mine, Pauli Schafer.” A beat passes, and he’s looking at her with an expression she can’t name. “Can I walk you out?”

She knows he’ll let her do what she needs to, stay quiet by her side. 6:00 AM to Kansas City- She wishes they had time for a cup of coffee. She’ll take a moment though, get one more picture of him walking out in the morning light. “You may.”